Truth
Bodega
I visited my mother in a Tampa Bay complex
Klonopin and vodka all day
She was always pulling on bottles
No pull to eat
Strapped inside of cathode rays
What was most sad of all is
That you never want to leave your imprisonment
You said that I'm happy
I was arrogant I said that you weren’t
Smoke billowed through the screen door slide
I stared at my computer to escape from the night
You asked me advice so I wrote you a lie
I typed: Truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
I visited a writer with anxiety complex
Depression meds to last through the same
Prescribed in bottles. Shown on TV
Cost as much as eighteen plays
On his TV flat screen was the porcupine dream of the essay
Where a man and his dream
Let loose on caffeine see it only one way
And pain rings true said the pen to the knife
And what rings true is what a pen wants from life
Said I used to want to die just to prove I was right
No one told me truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
I visited my lover in an hourly hospice
I've yearned for you on pixel display
I'm always pulling on bottles
No pull to eat
And cannot find the words to say
Except what is most sad of all is
That I never want to leave my imprisonment
You said that " I'm happy
But I know you and I know that you aren’t
That's when the words they started to fly
Weight took off there and opened me wide
Took a smell of her perfume and a glance in her eye
To learn truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment
Truth is not punishment