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We agreed to live our truths
no matter what—
even if it meant betrayal to each other
in order to not betray ourselves.
Even with that oath,
your decision to lock me from my truth
as the means that earned you yours
broke me.
Because maybe I deserved it.
Maybe my truth isn’t worth being lived,
or maybe it’s just me that doesn't deserve truth.
You are more worthy of living your truth
than I will ever be for even the hope of mine.
I imagine living your truth is
rejoicing for the struggle it took to achieve
joy that erases any lingering sorrow
and removal of the weight I have been to you.
I imagine living your truth
tastes like fireworks
smells like a tuning orchestra
looks like bubbling laughter
sounds like sunlight
and feels like opening your eyes for the first time.
It is better for me to sit in the ash,
alone and forgotten
but not useless.
If my presence here allows your truth life,
I make this prison my new truth.
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