The Root Of It All
Write me a poem she said from her chair,
and tell the dark secrets that lie under there.
Dig it all up from the deepest of holes.
Tell in your poem what you’ve not told to a soul.
Write your way through all the layers you’ve used
to hide the dark secrets that make up the roots
of all of the vines and the thorns in your heart.
Tell me now, what do you hide in the dark?
For you’ll never heal if things stay as they are,
with bandaids and makeup to cover the scars.
You’ll always be there in the state that you’re in
if you won’t write it out... and let healing begin.
