My Truth

I’ve always been terrified of people,

never knowing who to trust.

I’ve always seen the worst in people,

and thought in God we rust.

I’ve never really put myself out there

because it’s cold going out on a limb.

And when I inevitably got knocked back,

I never learned to take it on the chin.

So I practised wearing masks and doing voices

and I practised striking many a pose -

even though I don’t like the music of Madonna 

and can’t stand that fucking awful Vogue.

There are so many places I could have been to,

so many friends I could have met along the way,

so many lovers’ names I could’ve carved into my arms,

so many beaches where I could’ve holidayed.

But I chose to keep myself within a box then

and curl myself away in all my hurt;

somehow I felt safer bumming in my socks when

I should’ve been brave and wore that shirt.

Now I see the many years I wasted,

squatting in a den that reeked of fear.

All I have to do is pick myself up now,

see the truth, dust the shoulders, face the years.