Trust like ice

The truth is you cannot trust it.

Granted or earned, eroded or shattered,

It is not solid, not constant.

Like black ice on a winter night,

it will bring you to your knees,

spit you into a wild spin,

a disorienting slow motion end

to what once seemed so crystal clear.


They say the truth will set you free,

and there is some comfort there.

First, brush its shards from your knees,

shake dissonance from your head.

Await a thaw or find spikes for traction,

But either way, you must rise again,

wiser now,

but not broken.