The Truth Hurts

The truth doesn't knock it breaks the door, walking in with hands too honest to ignore. It strips away the lies I wrapped around my heart, showing me the cracks I tried to call art. It whispers, "Not everyone who stays loves you, and not everyone who leaves hates you." Somehow, those words cut the deepest. The truth has no mercy. It doesn't soften its edges just because I'm not ready. It simply exists. It hurts because it asks me to let go of who I hoped for, and accept what is. But maybe that's its purpose— not to break me forever, but to break the illusion that kept me from healing. Because the truth may leave scars, and tears may follow, but a painful truth will always be kinder than a beautiful lie.