At any rate, I recently finished reading Alice Sebold's memoir, Lucky, and one quotation really resonated with me and reminded me of a poem I wrote years and years ago that I never posted here (I wrote a lot more poetry than is in the archives of this blog - most of it wasn't worth posting, even based on the somewhat grandiose self-serving criteria of the teenager that I was).
She wrote, "I live in a world where the two truths coexist; where hell and hope lie in the palm of my hand" (p. 243). I think that's the answer I was looking for in 2004.
Fractured Truths
April 7th, 2004
I have two strong hands,
And they’re stronger than you think.
Strong enough to take the truth
And pull it into two pieces,
One to hold in each hand.
It’s still the truth,
And nothing but the truth.
The whole truth? Perhaps not,
But it’s not as if anybody
Really knows the difference.
I’m not a liar. There’s no wrong
In splitting my past into two parcels
And sharing it around how I like.
And if I use my mouth
And take a bite to keep,
Is there anything wrong with that?
I have two hands, one mouth, and one truth.
Why can’t I split it?
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