She keeps her darkest secrets
Hidden in her cedar chest
Resting at the end of her bed
Longingly she wishes to escape
The horrors that she keeps, too, safe
Never wanting them in the first place
Needing a partner to figure her mess?
That just adds tension and stress!
Not knowing what the other expects
Over-flowing; her chest unlatches
Memories of the unwanted; haunted
A place where she’s never been wanted
She just wants to lay them to rest
Make them stop bantering in her head
Instead let them go to sleep or become dead
Why at 45 do they still haunt me instead?