This here is my truth.
It's raw, scarred flesh
A disgrace to look upon,
But this maggot-infested truth
Is mine.
Yours, my sweet-tempered lover,
Lies elsewhere,
In the midst of glorious joy
That everyone longs for.
Your truth, my honey-eyed darling,
Is one to be accepted with open arms,
Unlike mine
Which must be accepted only under the harshest conditions.
This is my truth:
I am not who I say I am.