Words were said the other day and I thought I could lie my way out of the truth or creep stealthily by and maybe in the course of your monologue you wouldn’t notice that I was missing headed out and away from all you think I haven’t heard a thousand times or more and maybe the problem is that you don’t understand that I’m not swallowing your words taking them in like the water of life because I’ve got a well in my own backyard and I’m gonna drink from it before I drink from yours and maybe my neighbour may have thrown some poison in but see I’ve been working steadily at cleaning it out and maybe my lover threw some dirt in but see I took the water out cup by cup sieved it through tripled triple layers of cheesecloth distilled it all then scrubbed the walls and floor of my well with love put the water back in brought the holy ones by to bless these waters poured libations to my ancestors for them to be blessed and to bless me then tasted of the waters of this life -my own- finding a sweetness I hadn’t conceived and in this bittersweet truth I ask you to let me be free to be me and maybe we wouldn’t clash over which well holds the truth ‘cause you see your truth is your own and holds up for you and all you do and my truth is my own but I’m willing to admit that a blessed drop here and there from other wells added to my own that has been given openly to a heart willing to receive can only make my cup runneth over with joy but you would have me swallow even if it would make me choke and you would have me fill my mouth and spit it out when your back was turned just to afford you the happy illusion that I’ve taken it all in because at a million miles away you would content yourself that you’d filled me up with as many cups as necessary from your well to last me until your return and that in your absence I would live the life in those waters but what is the point in leaving my own unused I thought use was the purpose when I entered this my own house.