the truth can be found in the backs of old library books,
slipped in between browning pages and buried
deep within the creases of bent paperbacks
and under loose sleeves of text about love and loss

the truth can be found in the
crinkles of empty bed sheets, between folds of
duvets and in between pillow slips,
crushed beneath hard springs and soft feathers,
whispered "i love you"s, "good morning"s,
"good night"s

the truth can be found gasping for air
at the bottom of a blackened sea, chained to the ocean floor
like a sunken ship and rising bubbles,
shifted under sand and deep breaths before a dive

and the truth can be found in the eyes of someone
you once loved, aching and bold,
covered with black flies but still somehow beautiful,
the truth can set you free,
but first it'll **** you off.