the dilemma of the truth-seeker

if by writing i try to understand
what has happened in my life,
then each stanza touches a true story,
if only by transference. the thing is,
it is my truth. in the end, whatever happens
in our lives happens in relation to others,
and for whatever reason, we will never
know the other side, even if we wanted
to know. but how to tell a real story
and not hurt a real person
again?

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