his secrets

sitting in the waiting room
his name will be called soon

he’ll be asked about his secrets
ones he had hoped to keep

secrets can be dangerous things
feeding the appetite of lying

a cancer growing, leeching, stealing
bits of his reality

falling inward it hits his heart
an arrow shot in the dark

memories brought to the surface
but trauma likes to hide its purpose

it works its way into a soul
caring not for what it stole

rumors and doubt will choose to hide
where they’re always hardest to find

if the truth should come to light
out of shadows is where it’s brightest

too heavy a burden to carry alone
responsible parties made to atone