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I’ve often thought of lies as an act of getting dressed in the morning,
and truth as a milkshake full of sharp volcanic shards
to be drank like a cold glass of water on a hot summer day:
everyone lies.

Though lies are misinformation,
the color of lies are the most interesting part.
No lie is white but there are many with no repercussions,
the black cancerous make you question who is pained the most: the receiver or the giver?
but the flesh tone color lies are sins of ignorance,
why or how one does not know themselves is beyond me.

Flesh tone lies question things you know,
like never trust a man who lies for a living
turns to give him the benefit of the doubt.
I wonder if I am more ignorant for giving unearned space in my life
or for not leaving when I see discrepancy.

Cutting truth is a skill:
an imprecise cut leaves pain and no resolve
too deep of a cut
is a sure sign of immaturity, blinded by rage
for the code teaches loyalty, as much as compassion
and success is measured in the eyes of those affected
and not inside those doing the action.

So how do you strike that balance?
How do you become invested enough to search
but unaffected enough to get detracted by emotion?
How do you search motive
without being an executioner?
Do you pursue the color of the lie,
even when information is denied?

Like superman, we all want to see our perfect selves
unhurt, unscathed and shining bright in the eyes of others
It’s in the judging of ourselves
and wearing the skin of others
that we find wisdom and understanding
that the art of telling the truth, is not how right you are
but how successful you can educate.