Me too.

Me too.

 

Me too:

slow erosion of confidence

over the decades.

 

A secret’s corrosive; it lies

in your stomach and burns.

 

And I’ve lied, compulsively,

to myself: it didn’t happen.

Better to lie than lie down

and let it take me.

 

I thought.

 

But they churn out

excuse after excuse

for abuse upon abuse

 

of trust

 

of power

 

while we:

 

shower off the shame

that should be theirs

and hold their names

(the ones we know)

beneath our tongues for years,

as if the bitter taste, held down

could help us swallow fear.

 

Me too.

And maybe you,

it’s hard to say but every single day

it’s done.

And every single day my lips are sealed

 

they’ve won.

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