What the hell is truth

and what place does it have in this sordid story?

Truth may lie beyond my capabilities.

All I can offer is a series of soundbites.

~

You need some help in the shed?

Sure, I’ll help you.

~

It’s so confined in here.

Everything’s shut out – even the light.

Wait a minute.

What – what are you doing?

Whatever it is, I don’t like it.

This earnest fumbling – so quiet, so guilty, so stealthy.

I don’t know what you’re doing, but I know it can’t be right.

~

It’s me, isn’t it?

It’s my fault somehow.

I’m guilty.  I’ve sinned.

I don’t even know what I’ve done,

but it made me feel so strange.

I’ve done something very wrong –

I just don’t know what.

God, I’m sorry.

Are you angry with me, God?

Have I offended you?

Please forgive me.

~

no, no

not again

please, not again

i hate this – i hate it

but i can’t move

i’m frightened to

what would my parents think?

they mustn’t know

no-one must know

ever

~

don’t you dare come near me

don’t you dare touch me

how can i ever delight in someone else’s touch

without your fingers creeping over my skin?

how can i ever thrill to another’s kiss

without remembering yours?

what an exchange

you took my priceless treasure –

the pleasure of discovery, contentment and love –

and left me with an open sewer

~

What is the truth here?

Nothing edifying.

I thought truth was supposed to be a noble thing,

uplifting us, releasing us from darkness.

I was wrong.

So what have we learned?

They’re out there,

the vultures,

making slow, lazy circles in the sky.

Hide your lambs.