The truth.

I'll hand you a bucket full of lies 

and you would think it was one drop of truth

because you didn't look closely enough.

I'm sure that you feel better- but at the same 

time, I wonder if it really mattered. 

I'm sure there's a way that I can continue on

in my quest to poison the fraction for the better of the whole.

Or perhaps it's too late and the damage is done.

I can only do but so much to disappear without

a quiver of disapproval.

Slowly shrinking down to nothing is such a slow process.

I can't do this anymore with crumbling like a cheap coffee cake. 

If I could just infuse into you the truth, 

things would be so much easier.

Because even if I could, I would have no idea how tell you.

All that would come from my mouth is a puff of dust.

I would imagine a shock of pain from me to you.

The difference is that you would deal with it for a 

maximum of five seconds and my body would replace with urgency.

The thoughts in my mind would be on yours for so little time 

and be gone in a flash with nothing else to feel. 

Anything that plagues me will only matter for the bat of an eyelash.

While mine are wiping tears, yours are comletely dry with no second thoughts.

Sometimes, I just want to walk into complete darkness 

feeling the sereness of the crisp air,

and walk until I had no clue where I was.

I would feel the tears on my cheeks dry and 

focus on the auto-pilot motion of

polluted air going into my limited lungs. 

Clinging to a chain fence, I focus on my breath because it's too short to go on with.

Beyond the short gasps of breath that I try to take in, 

I don't need sight to tell that there are deep gashes ripped into me

that will later scar and open up again just like this. 

Wheezing through, feeling a fully awakened pain like a giant I stop.

The bosy is constantly working with so many moving parts 

all of them multitasking beyond effort.

And then the mind throws a wrench in with your emotions 

and your heart turns off the auto pilot switch and it starts to skip vital beats and sinks 

down into your lungs and jumps back into your throat.

Funny how the most vital organs in your body can be everywhere at once

and still keep you alive.

Do you really want to know how I feel?

Sometimes, I feel like a hollowed out book.

I can say so many things, 

but my words are cut short by a gaping hole.

I can't be close to you because I'm afraid of becoming whole.

I fear what the rest of me says because I've never seen it before.

I sit in the case that tells you that everything is normal.

I spend my existence this way to make sure that my surrounding shells

don't have a single crack in them.

Not only this,

but the muscle inside is never strained.

And they all look over to me and I look fine.

Almost too fine.

This makes sense.

The muscle is strained, sprained, hurt, injured and irreperable.

You accept my lies like cough medicine. 

Bitter tasting, and yet it's eventually better for you.

I understand how this is better for you.

But with all of the lies holding you up,

the truth is dragging me to the depths of hell.

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.