Pobjie Poetry Month Day 8 Title Courtesy Of @spacekidette

The Beauty of Truth

I never saw a truth I liked the look of
Driving through midnight orange fog pocket-change rattling
To find a way to pass the time that threatened to bring reality with it
Sitting on kerbs we avoided each other's eyes
Laughed as loud as we could to drown out whatever we knew about ourselves
And kept driving in circles
Like we thought the truth would give up if it got dizzy enough
Dropping in to wink at graveyard shift checkout chicks
As if we had a plan for the night that would end anywhere
But heavy eyes and loneliness
Lounging on pillars in dirty white malls
Smirking at the bad hair days slithering past and the skirts that promised more than they delivered
And snapping lips to show
Our higher form of being
That didn't need their blissful ignorance
Our jokes told us we were going somewhere
So we happily believed them
And beneath the bulldog clouds heaving quiet breath in the airless night
We turned our eyes from truth
Because its stare will turn you to stone
And when Saturday night's an echo and freedom falls to the winds
We'll know truth
As it squats, fat and deformed, before us, and demands entry to our hearts
And we'll welcome it at last
When we see we're out of options
When we reach out for the thousandth time in throat-stopped hope
And for the thousandth time clutch at thin air
Then truth we'll face, and truth we'll seek
As the last thing on earth we wanted
And the last thing on earth we have left