If I have said the truth permitted and nothing but the truth permitted,
have you seen, in my navigation of social convention,
my honesty? My openness?

Or have you called it a mask?
Can you see that you do not see through
me, but through the ones who’d place

the muzzle? Will I see you understand,
or psychoanalyze?

Should I trust your tender care,
or fear a judge who’d abandon, disappear?

Have you known me best or refused to believe
all other words I say?

Do I slave my life to again be heard
by the one who respects

or betrays?