I have to tell you a secret.
My body shakes, shakes, shakes
in response, trying to repress the
slimy words slithering out of my throat.
Locked in a box branded with the mark of a liar,
the secret sits waiting to be opened by temptation,
releasing all of life’s evils.
It’s time I share; lift the anxiety.
Lift the anchor that pushes on my chest
towards the bottom of the sea.
But I fear the lock on the box;
it’s aging rust and loosening hold on my secret.
The stench of the lie reeks of mold, rot, and sweat, growing by the day.
Can you smell it on me? Because I can.
Oh how scared I am to release my secret.