“why are you here?”

a poem about the fine line.

Photo by Ruslan Valeev on Unsplash

a part of myself has died and

i kept trying to kill the rest of me.

they asked me, “why are you here?”

and the truth was that i didn’t know,

and that i wished that i wasn’t, but

honesty is not my best policy

when answering questions

from hospital staff.

you have to be careful

about what you let yourself say

because too many truths will land you

in a place that lies can’t get you out of.