The Truth is Out There

Something was gnawing away at me
something long-forgotten now returned,
demanding my attention as it
dug its way out of the dark hiding place
I thought it would never escape from.
So it was free at last,
free to demand answers from me,
free to demand the truth.

I had no idea where to begin to look so
I stared at the television news until I nearly went blind
flicked through the daily papers until my fingers were stained black
and trawled social media until my phone and will to live nearly died.
But none of these contained the truth and probably never did.

So I re-read the incomplete chapters of the book I had tried hard to write,
examined the scruffy lines of poetry I had set aside
then looked hard at myself in the mirror.
I asked my reflection. “Where is the truth?”

My reflection stared back at me
then said. “You do realise you know where the truth is.
It’s still exactly where you buried it,
I know I helped dig the hole
and we both knew this day would come,
when you would ask me where the truth was.
But don’t you remember,
you made me swear on my life,
that I should never tell you.”