I withdraw from you all
Conceal the depths of what I feel
Shadow my intent in poetry
Words that make the secret me real
But other actions detract from the facts
Of what I write
Daily life
Denies
What my writing implies
I am honest
Mostly
With others
Not really
Is this me
Am I a good person
To account for myself justly
Our am I just deftly
Deflecting responsibility
Is my modest genius
My disability
Is existences my exercise in futility
Self-mutilation in the form of humility
Acts of contrition in my comedy
I still don’t know
If I am a good person