If we close all the doors by Zelda Chappel

I am not here but back there
somewhere, digging around in the same dark
age. I wanted to tell someone

whatever you think. There were no sounds
to be made then, made small
by fear and what I couldn’t comprehend
shame

guilt you’ll perpetuate with your questions
and refusal to believe, denial

that is how it was, is, will be.
You’ve no idea.

Play it down. Close the door. It won’t help.
Behind, there’s nothing
but wolves
and they are hungry
growing
breeding.

We can tame them, just listen.
I’ve learned lessons. I can teach.