KaitTheGoldpath

Most days I keep this silent Keep it buried under bandages and wrappings and Hi, How Are You How are you this fine... evening But it festers and ruptures on occasion Cracks and breaks and before I know it I'm slipping All of the filth comes rushing forward Guilt, depression, shame, angst An old wound opening from the depths of what I call me And at the core of it a name that in my better moments I could have sworn I'd forgotten It comes on like a tidal wave Memories fast and furious and aged two long, awful years Two years of could-have-been anniversaries and Taylor Swift impressions Two years of pretending I don't feel it Of pretending that