Secrets

You cannot see that I am crumpled paper
a topographical map barely revealing
a landscape born of calamity
angry collisions deform the surface from below.

You cannot know that I am well-coiffed artifice
an ailing woman intent on concealing
the corrosion poison pills can’t reach
prescriptions only lead to more prescriptions.

You should know that you were salve
when platitudes burned to pure tinnitus
taking stock of sword and shield
you asked about the girl beneath the armor.