Matters is know what

It's wrong, right?

This way I see.

This skewed perspective.

Alens smudged, perhaps,

or cracked down the middle,

making the straight appeara little bent,

the clear a touch cloudy.

Is it wrong?

This seeing?

Or just different.

Awhisper instead of a shout.

Amuted hum where others heara symphony.

No.

It isn't wrong.

Not really.

Because what I see,

what I feel,

what I understandis my truth.

And your truth,

and their truth,

they don't lie.

Even when we don't believe them,

like you do not.

They just are.

Solid,

unyielding,

present.

Apart from the judgments,

the sharp edges of opinion,

who am Ito say your seeing is the only seeing?

Idon't knowwhat you have been through.

The landscapes you’ve traversed,

the storms you’ve weathered,

the quiet valleys of peace.

So what, then,

is the discussion?

This back and forth,

this insistence,

this unyielding argument.

Here, see.

Look with my eyes,

for a moment.

Or know.

Feel the weight of what I perceive.

Either way,

what's the discussion?

When the only thing that mattersis the profound certainty of me.

Isee.

Yah.

Isee.

With this flawed sight.

And it is enough.

It is whole.

It is my universe.

And in its own way,

perfectly clear.

Even through the haze.

Even with the crooked lines.

Isee.

And that is all.