In this bleary eyed moment I will attempt an answer (I hope I do not ruin it for you).

A secret? Sometimes I can be so full of myself that I am able to pretend that nothing else matters, when I know that it does. “I need to hear it back.” Can you consider what type of person would challenge irrational fear, to face inevitable embarrassment, because of that need? What drives someone to stand as a target, exposed and almost transparent? Fuel.

The question is this…what do I really have to say? I shout off, in part, to bolster my ego. We can safely assume that you are aware of my requiring a little extra fluffing. But most importantly, I self examine past and present. And yes, sometimes I am so ridiculous that I laugh at myself.

(I mean really, am I that much of a _______________ (insert derogatory explicative)? Perhaps, I am. But lately, I have been ending the day with a “yes, I was”. So again, contradiction is my burden. What you do with that knowledge is your own business.)

A truth? We all will die. For some, there is a need to find every little piece of evidence to the contrary. I admit that I have been guilty of this myself. I have been so turned inside out with the need for truth that I challenged every bit of logic I encountered. I do not know exactly what truth is, but I know my perception of it might differ from yours. My truth may be painted in a different hue. Slightly off color, but still my truth just the same. And I will stand by it, fiercely.

The question is this…what do we believe? We gather what information we can and draw our own conclusions. We each have our own experience from which we base our assumptions. As long as I have been alive I have registered every moment and from that registry I claim truth. This is obvious and I am ridiculous, really.

I would like to return to the original idea of secrets. I keep most of mine safe from prying eyes. Embarrassing little fuckers, aren’t they? But, by allowing one, two, three, and now four of the darkest their freedom, I have learned something about truth…how important it is to face our own.

What matters to me is this…I hope you read truth here. And by here, I do not mean exclusively my capricious chatter. From my corner, I attempt exercises in poetic candor. Some of it is written for me, some for you, some for them, some for him, and some for her (in no particular order of importance), but never with expectation. I use the freedom I have here to sort out some of my more dangerous secrets and truths.

I have this last little bit for you to use in order to paint me in your own hue of truth (and it is no secret)…
I am porcelain and black as night. I can be as subtle as a 747 and as fragile as double reinforced steel. But nevertheless, I can be poked all the way through and then the light will shine through me. With that light, I am able to produce a force greater than I deserve.

p.s. that place, it is cold and crowded, rough and smooth, and filled with impossible demands directed by my own hands. It is closer to the bottom than I would ever chance to be. It calls, but doesn’t give warning. It immediately holds secret and truth. It is where the unraveling begins and ends.







For those of you that have recently (or even not so recently) lost a family member or a friend, I am deeply sorry.