To tell you the truth

To tell you the truth, I'm afraid of honesty -

of it's sharp, defined edges that cut like ice,

the way it outlines a person's face instead of his shadow;

how absolute it is, whole, intolerant of halves,

it's ability to probe into the seabed depths of a soul,

but mostly because of this:

how close it hits home, because home is where the heart is

and where we build our strongest defense.

What is time

What is time well spent

if barely a dent in the

surface of history, spread

thinly across the face of the earth?

The seconds are fleeting, and

minutes are eating into hours.

I sit still because the world is

moving and my heart moves

within my chest.