I ought to
Still be scared
Perhaps I still am
Having lived through
Another endless summer
Letting early fall rain
Cool my overheated brow
Life thick with
Back to school
And overly early
Decorations
For the scary holiday
As if my Tuesday
Visits weekly
Are not scary enough,
Almost religious,
Where I must
Confront myself
By being in her presence,
Feeling the way I did
In line for the confessional
With the invisible priest
Waiting to hear all I have done,
Dare I detail all the dark thoughts
I have thought in the dark of night,
The intense desires,
The panicked moments
When all fell silent
Save for the rapid beat
Of my overzealous heart,
Things I still won’t
Talk openly about,
The pangs I feel
Each time she passes
Or the avoided stares
When she is seated across
From me,
What is left to confess
That I have not already,
How much more terrible
Are my sins that
I dare not confess them,
What more can I say,
That I have not already said
In the dark of night,
Scared to death,
Of what, I don’t know.
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