Kerouac said the only truth was music.
I suppose I agree,

"truth" is elusive
it means zip; no one cares.

the truth is like water between my fingertips,
air in my grasp,
a writer without a tragic backstory that you can probably sympathize with.
sorry.
the truth does not exist

we are here
how's that for elusive

meet me at our place,
at half past twelve.
you were the truest form of contentment.
the darkest form of light.
the secrets that I hide.
but meet me there,
and I will share...
whatever it is you have been wanting for all these years

because isn't that the truth?

*we're just here