I was a liar. My lies were not rare for it was me. Before your influence everything was a lie, even my smile, all that while I could not be me. For I could not see that I was being untrue to myself. Even though, that fake I was, it was convincing, I had everyone falling, believing that was who I was . . . but I wasn't. On some level, I think you knew that.
You gave me so much. It's my heart you had touched. Before the truth was a myth to me, it was just the scythe that I wished to be, I never searched it out to clear my conscious. Now I look for it everywhere, no matter how sharp, or painful righteous may be. It's meant to be seen and known.
You were there as a backboard. You were that sword when I asked it of you. You've taken me in when it was needed most. It was a strong connection we had, and still do I hope, and it gave me motivation to be me and always be.
You're family to me and, Mom, I love you. Blood verses Water, I could care less. You're nothing like the rest. You let me be me. Moody. Carefree. Stressed. Childish at times. Hyper. Let's just face it, a little crazy Through my insanity you stuck with me, and still love me, for me and not what I pretended to be. That's all I've asked, someone like you to stay. You've helped me with my passions and hopefully I had helped you too somehow. I feel a debt that I can never repay.
