RIFFS: Halloween

You asked me once “what is the dark, deep secret your hiding?”
And when I told you, filled with sickness you went into hiding.
In your cute costume suit,
Not ready for my sad truth
To confront demons unhidden from obvious places.

It isn’t easy being the wife of brand-new English professor.
Cramped little housing, drunkards for friends, never in silence.
Tweed coats they don’t fit right.
It’s the same every night.
Name-dropped delusions from bottles and literary allusions.

You swooned and wobbled.
I knew the party is over and I had ruined it.
Taken off your tracks suddenly,
Sharing my secret with none who would understandably listen.
Screaming and falling,
The object of your husband’s derision.

Find shaky comfort in the darkened depths of your apartment.
Your best friend brushing is your hair.
The rest of your guests can successfully ignore my existence.
I make my way out into the cold.

In the car with my forehead pressed on the cool window.
Regretfully wishing I lied one more time.
I used to be good at that.
But that’s far from the saddest fact.
It wasn’t the worst thing I could have told you at all.

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