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In So Many Words
My mother used to tell me that she could see right through me.
Transparent.
That if I were to put up a wall, she could tear it down with ease.
Effortless.
And each time those words came out of her mouth, I believed her.
Naive.
So I danced around my words, leaving out those that weren’t beautiful.
Judgemental.
The words I painted as ugly only ruined the canvas.
Unpleasant.
Though, the torn portrait was acceptable,
Compliant
I soon began to run out of colors to cover the holes.
Hopeless.
I scrambled for alternative methods to hide my mistakes.
Incorrigible.
There was no solution. The holes began to scream louder.
Irritating.
And when my mother turned the easel, she saw everything I didn’t say.
Liar.
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This piece is about lying to my Mom and getting caught, which happens every single time.