Poem: To Be Honest With You

I could wrap this in ribbons, lace it with light,
Spin golden illusions to keep things polite.
But if truth is the thing that you’re asking me for,
Then settle in close—I’ll open the door.

Some days, I’m uncertain, more shadow than flame,
I speak with conviction but don’t know my name.
I carry your questions like stones in my chest,
And try to give answers that still let you rest.

To be honest with you—this world is a storm,
It breaks us, remakes us, in no single form.
But there’s beauty in cracks, in the pieces we find,
In the mess of a soul that is trying to be kind.

I won’t say it’s easy; I won’t claim it’s fair.
We bleed through the smiles and pretend not to care.
But honesty, raw, is a wild sort of grace—
It doesn’t wear makeup, it looks you in the face.

So here is my truth, plain and steady and true:
I may not know much, but I’m here. With you.
And if that’s enough, then we’ve both found our part—
Two voices, one moment, one honest heart.