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?