Truth
I want the truth.
The whole truth, not your spin
doctor, sound bite version of
the truth, but the real deal,
honest to God
Baptist preacher on Easter
Sunday morning truth.
The kind of truth you only tell
your mama, because she’s psychic,
and it’s a waste of time trying to
tell her anything else anyway.
Okay, let’s have it.
I’m a big girl and I can take it,
I won’t cry.
I want the truth.
The whole truth.
Did you eat the last
damn slice of pizza?
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