it is Truth who speaks for me

who sings my praise even as

I shove her down, hiding her

ethereal voice from those around me

it is Truth who whispers to me

who takes care to remind me of

these flaws I cannot ignore, yet

Truth feels a need to highlight these

quite excessively

she pulls me from daydreams and

nightmares and does not know

when to hide

she is cruel and arrogant, Truth

only the mesh sieve of Respect could

hold back the tumultuous waters that

Truth swims deep in, overtaking oceans

and creating tidal waves of

both desolation and revelation

only could Respect suppress Truth

in the way that an umbrella shields

one from rain pelting down, thick

in sheets of glassy beads–

pain without proper protection

he knows the beauty and revitalization

that comes with the Truth–

an honest rain washes away one’s sins

so he lets Truth through when I

step outside to breathe, when I

have a lake on my chest, when I

need a revival from the weight on my lungs

but it is not always the time and place

he is observant and powerful, Respect

one without the other is a

piece of machinery,

cold and dull or

rough and unyielding

yet when Truth sings her song, Respect

cannot help but revel in her presence