To Be Honest Poem by ashok jadhav

(A soft light. The speaker exhales, as if finally unburdening a long-held truth.)

To be honest—
I almost didn't say this.
Honesty has a way of changing rooms,
of making people shift in their seats.
To be honest,
I've hidden behind jokes,
behind silence,
behind the version of myself
that feels easiest to accept.
I've nodded when I wanted to scream,
agreed when my heart resisted,
called it peace
when it was only fear.
They praise honesty
until it arrives uninvited.
Then suddenly,
it's too much,
too sharp,
too real.
To be honest,
I am tired—
not of living,
but of pretending I am not.
Tired of translating my truth
into something softer,
tired of apologizing
for feelings I did not choose.
So here it is—
unfiltered,
unpolished,
slightly trembling.
You may misunderstand me.
You may walk away.
But at least this time,
I will not walk away from myself.
To be honest—
this is the bravest thing I've done.