TRUTH

I keep digging for the TRUTH.
I want to stop but I'm compelled.
The further I go the less I am heard.
Why can't you hear the TRUTH? Why can't you see it? It isn't bad. It isn't dark. It isn't evil. It's simply the TRUTH.
I scream for you to hear it. I cry for you to hear it. But the more I see the less you can hear.
My words become gibberish, the words of a crazy woman, a woman that needs to be patronized.
I want to turn around and go back. I want to go back to the world of Improv Theater where I freely come up with the next line. There isn't any room or need for the TRUTH there. How do I go back?
I could blanket the TRUTH with a fog of alcohol or live in blame to take the focus off the TRUTH.
But I don't.
I keep moving through layer after endless layer of illusions and wishes and fears. What is at the end?
Pure authentic I imagine.
The TRUTH isn't frightening. It's liberating.
I'm not afraid of the TRUTH.
I'm afraid of being alone in it.