Secrets

Something looms over me
It's coming, yes it is
Like someone's face
I can't quite place
But somehow feel I know it.

Flashes and feelings
Are no grounds
For the terrible words that scream.
Accusation.
Condemnation.
Their whispers fill my ears.
Come outside and play with us
They linger at my door;

And then maybe she'll see what bad girls get
For telling tattle tales.
But being good is what I know
Can keep me safe and sound;

So I think I'll stow these feelings
Six feet under ground.
But even though I hum a tune
As my spade goes pit-a-pat,
I wonder if those feelings
Will stay under the mat.

Perhaps they'll rise to roam the earth
And visit my bed at night.
To wake me from the whispering dreams
That stretch the seams of sanity;

Where I smell the rotting flesh of things
Denied their place in the sun;

And like the poor spotted rabbit
I look for a way to run.
But of course there is no place
Where the guilty can retreat;

Except into denial
Where no evil shall I speak.