I have too many filters in my head,
too many censors
telling me what not to say;
what details not to include;
what cellar doors must remain
unless the demon behind it gets loose.
And yet I'm telling the truth
but only a fraction,
a few decimals shy of a whole number,
a confused, muddled mathematical word problem
without a clear formula or solution.
Except here, on this screen.
Wilde was right: truth requires
This screen gives me a mask
and all the filters are turned off
and all the padlocks removed
and all the demons released.
The mask makes me less accountable
and more accountable.
It is not opaque
but clear as a sheet of perfect crystal,
no imperfections to distort
or magnify any facet.
Just a transparent mask.
But my obfuscation remains in place.
The slight effect it has
does more to liberate my mind
than any drug or spirit ever could.
I still prefer rum to this screen, though.
At least with rum,
I can be a jolly truthsayer.