Skin Deep: Summa
There was once a boy whose skin was unlike ours.
It wasn't made of flesh alone.
It was made of trust.
Soft. Whole. Unbroken.
The first lie was small.
"I'll be there."
They never came.
A tiny crack ran across his arm.
No one noticed.
The second lie was louder.
"You matter to me."
They laughed when he walked away.
Another piece fell to the ground.
Still, no one noticed.
The third lie came from someone he called family.
"Everything will be okay."
It wasn't.
His shoulders split, and fragments of himself drifted into the wind like dry leaves.
People stared.
Some whispered.
Some blamed him for breaking.
None asked who kept striking the hammer.
Years passed.
The lies became ordinary.
"I'm sorry."
Without change.
"I promise."
Without keeping it.
"I love you."
Without meaning it.
Each word peeled away another layer.
Soon, his hands could no longer hold.
His feet could no longer stand.
His smile could no longer hide what honesty already knew.
One cold morning, the last piece of skin slipped from his heart.
He looked at the sky one final time...
and quietly became dust.
The people gathered.
They cried.
They said,
"We never meant for this to happen."
But the wind carried only silence.
Because intentions cannot heal the wounds that repeated lies create.
The dust rose, caught the sunlight, and disappeared—
leaving behind only a single sentence etched into the earth:
"Truth may hurt for a moment. Lies can hurt for a lifetime."
Lesson
Words are never "just words." A lie can slowly break a person's trust, confidence, and spirit, even when the damage isn't visible. Choosing honesty, even when it's difficult, shows respect for others and helps protect relationships. Every truthful word can strengthen someone; every lie risks leaving a wound you may never see.
