The truth gets me excited
Lies make me sad.

The truth is cool and scary, like the ocean
vast, intense, buoyant and salvation
Lies fall like stone,
brittle-sounding, metallic and rusting

The truth holds up a piece of me,
pronounces, ‘it is,’ then
nothing further needs to be said.
Lies are speaking of the greater good
but heaven knows I’m the only one of matter

The truth elbows its way into the room,
boisterous and convinced and mothering,
Lies are squeezed and sullen, pushed to the back row,
suckling on comfort food

The truth is a jagged edge, untidy around a greater surface,
enmeshed with its surroundings and judgement.
Lies are like paper cuts, slow to mend,
and apparent even when they’re not noticed.

Even if I don't say it, or pray it,
or admit it to myself
there is no other home for me,
No sidestep apart from that which separates me.

See that grave-plot? Therein lies the truth,
that residual part
when all the rot and decay have left my heart.

What I am will outlive me,
the truth be told.