Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Confessions

I don’t know if anyone is honest in this world.
I think of
the gunman
on the run
robbing liquor stores
to feed his habit.
Or the young New York businessman
promoting the merits of his company
when he knows it is destined to fail.
Then there’s the insurance company vowing to make an offer
when they have no intention to do so
and are only waiting for the statute of limitations to run out.
Or the lawyer,
offering to “negotiate” for free as a favor.
Or the doctor,
stealing from her parents’ bank accounts,
and calling it a loan.
What about the songwriter,
writing songs about coffee and cigarettes
when she’s never smoked
or ever tasted coffee.
All are dishonest.
To differentiate and say one is worse than the other
would only be justification.
Dishonesty is dishonesty right?
But who has the right to point a finger at another?
Who can say they’re honest?
Who can say they’ve never eaten out of the bin
at the health food store?
Or said yes
to a lover when they wanted to say no?
Who can say they are always true to themselves,
in every circumstance,
no matter what they might lose?
For me,
it isn’t the twenty five cent coupon I “illegally” used today,
or the fact that I bought organic onions and said they were conventional,
it’s the dirty feeling I get in my soul
after I’ve done it.
It’s knowing I can’t trust myself.