if jealousy stems
trust, truth, fear, safety
and i lost trust at four or
maybe it was two - then again
at 18 - then at 19. and i lied
i lied to protect him from her
and it became so easy: i remember
her crying, calling, cornering
and asking and i looked forward
and i lied and he was so proud
i would've lied the rest of my life
i wouldn't know truth if it hit me
as i continued towards: so many
came and went: when we sat under
that tree i wanted to tell the truth
instead short stories streamed out
how many years ago was that: twenty seven
then there was fear: i did not
speak: i drank, yelled, screamed
destroyed walls: i couldn't cook
clean, drive, or use my hands
i dreamt in secret, existed in secret
then my hair tumbled: the west
wind turned my head. i learned
it hurt. i learned to be safety: a boo
a jersey, an arsenal of adjustments
because as he said: it's time to let go
*David Rose: Schitt's Creek (2018)
