I SWEAR I'LL NEVER TELL YOU
My sadness sleeps inside me only waking to remind me how completely I am, uninvited.
The sour stench, my childhood, invalid, and there I stood, compliant.
Failures blessings in my pockets filled with fingerprints and lockets holding secrets of a little girl I knew.
I swear I’ll never tell you, useless tragedy, be still.
Neatly wrapped up in my throat, foolish, fragile, worthless hope, of a time that never sat upon the pulpit.
Just pretend you didn’t see me ask no questions to believe in I’ve no manners to relay the truth of filth.
Ugliness sits in my holdings and the heaviness I’m scolding only feeds the want to tire of the drill.
I swear I’ll never tell you so release the lies, go elsewhere, leave the little ones their shame and tired shell.
I swear, I’ll never tell you.