Sunday, July 7, 2013

Secrets


My fear has teeth that sink deep in
my chest, burrowing into my heart.
In the dark hours of the morning,
imagined phone calls, deleted texts.

All things I hope never see the dawn.
Pushing the monsters into the corners
of a too-small apartment, stuffing
the secrets into dresser drawers.

Surrounded by socks and headbands
that are so rarely used, they have
a fine layer of dust around them.
A halo raining on the discoverer.

In the morning, pushing everything
into the sunlight.  Fear fades like old
photographs with the aid of coffee
and soggy cereal with sugar packets. 

I’m carried by half-hearted dreams
that someone else misplaced.  By
day-old sandwiches left on the counter
until only the center is soft .

I’m on a hunt for the ordinary now.
Giving all my secrets to people at Denny’s.
Trust the thing that least resembles my
fear, and live my days with lipstick gloss.