Secrets

I am not the first to be beaten by the one they love

I am not the last to be beaten by the one they love

Secrets linger in the storm that skewers my emotions with a long metal stick

I always feel depressed even when I laugh & I still clean, cook, take care of my kids & do laundry

Always

I can’t stand living but I won’t hurt myself

I can’t stand everything, the smiles, the pruny fingers in the bath, the pain of a broken tooth

The lingering sore of my broken heart, chipped, flayed, crushed, lingering

Secrets of billions of the same quiet kind of inside death

We move around in a lively way yet we feel defeated, decimated, destroyed

Secrets that place a veneer of quiet complacency

Masks on top of masks

Once I stripped off my submissive wife mask

And it all came apart

Once I stripped my fake smile

It all came loose

But I still feel the ache pinch my nerves

So delicately

The mask still had connection to my nerves, fried, collapsed, collided and folded like misfiring prions

Worse than a zombie because at least they had a purpose, to make more zombies

I just sat around with a broken soul

Picking up pieces of masks that had no whole.