in the quiet

in the quiet

 

in the quiet

of the quietest

part

  of my mind

that is where 

the truth is

 

sometimes

I lose the truth

accidentally

  because

clutter noise

mess stress tangles

 

other times

the truth is 

screaming and fluorescent 

  vociferous and lurid

and I pretend it is 

lost                 (It’s easier. Survival is important. Truth: Truth can kill.)

but 

it is 

always

always

there and never

  actually

lost because it is 

part of me         my being my DNA

my Self my humanness my all, my oh my oh my mind 

 

and

 

it might not be

your truth

it might not be

the same tomorrow

it might not be

anything

you understand

it might not be

anything

you

it might not be 

anything

it might not be

it might not be

  be

 

  be

  anything

 

 

[Edit: I’m adding the PDF version here, because I prefer the spacing on a “page” than in this weird HTML. Why my poetry and HTML don’t get along, I’ll never know, but we’ve had this argument before.]

 

 

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