Truth’s Blade

Truth was deviously silent in its movements, sneaking up upon a hopeful soul with a dagger hidden beneath the cuff of its sleeve.

It sunk the sharpened blade into the back of my neck when I had been so peacefully blissful.

It had bestowed me the briefest of clarity- that it had been sharpened especially for this occasion. That it had my name at the top of its list in a gorgeous script. That I would be better off with another scar than to live a life in denial. That it had been fated with a fortitude beyond my knowings I could only pray to God for its antidote.

And yet I wonder if the blade had been poisoned upon Truth's travels, for it is killing me with increasing speed. Perhaps cursed; as I am finding I am killing myself with liquor, drugs and overconsumption or the very opposite in hopes I may stave and starve off such finality. But it has sunken bone deep and I have nothing but diseased marrow to fester and pester me with the reminder.

I cannot ask Truth for consideration or clarity for it has no deed to me. So I must silently plead I be cast upon the red sea then allow this suffering to continue so diligently.