Honesty was buried in the grave
that you dug for fear of making
yourself look bad
as you shoved the dirt atop
the excuses that sound so clever
in your thoughts.
As if I am too clueless to understand
the truth that you hold back.

How can I be embarrassed that
your decisions resulted in colored pencils,
instead of a dictionary.
That it is dull words that slip through our phone calls
to keep you occupied with your life,
creating ways to relate them to me--
when they don't.

The last time I used a shovel,
I was raking leaves.
The required tool was not available,
but I made the best of it,
and still told the truth at the end of it.
So lets make plans for the future
none of us are promised,
because lies are found deep in our structure.

This is no treasure hunt,
I do not have to seek out  
accumulated values that belong to
someone other than me.
my metal detector is better used as
a prop to hold my broken window shut,
because it used to be a habit
to lock myself out.

And now I have a life of authenticity to take me
to the heart of a dirt-free familiarity.
Where others are required to leave their dreg diggers
at home where it is more comfortable,
if they want to communicate with me;
I never have to look down on myself again.
my emptiness has been filled.