He looks to me for an answer.
The pain eating me away,
he wants honesty
at least that's what he'll claim,
but no one desires truth
they want the story:
The happy-ending-once-upon-a-time
that's what I always speak.


I open my mouth to recite it,
when the rattling interrupts.
Taking over everywhere
the noise becomes too much.
I cannot speak
I cannot think
I cannot move
because the skeletons in my closet
they are everything I hear.
I attempt to recover,
to talk before he notices
but now he starts to wonder.
They rattle.

I lamely start.
Then stop again
trying to force us back.
Back to when the door stayed shut,
back to when I was undoubted,

Too late.
They rattle.
I carry on,

but they rattle.
He is questioning.
He stares behind
searching, seeking, what he won't find.
What he can’t find
I remind myself

and yet each sound drags him away.
And they rattle.


Yes, I’ve acted wrong,
but I thought for once it had worked out
all my demons gone to rest.
It hadn’t.
They weren’t.

They rattle.
I thought it was over.
The end had been so long and hard.
But I was older
and the lessons learned had all left scars.
I thought I had faced it.
But I was wrong.

They rattle.


I collapse
hard again
far and fast.
I speak
unaware of what I say
trying; on and on I rasp
covering up my past
each breathe tasting like my last,






















as my throat dries and closes up





























for the lies taste like ash.
They rattle.

I am drained exhausted
having run for miles and miles
but the past catches up to me
time and time again.
The battle grows old
having fought to each last chance
the pain is sharp
worse now than before
it won't last.
I promise myself I can survive past.
But can I?
They rattle.

We go on.
The pain
the fall
the crash
the break
the breath;
gasping out once again.
Will this end.
They rattle.

It's getting worse.
The fights longer
the pain stronger
the taste sharper
the fall harder
the night darker.

They rattle.

I force rush breathing speaking thinking
on and on I go,
but he stopped believing long ago.

They rattle.

Will they ever stop?
Will they be at peace?
For until they are
I may never be.