I’m skilled at bottling up my feelings
but I’ll burst if you shake me.
one pull at a loose thread
and I come apart at the seams.
I’ll boil and boil until my skin cracks
and peels off, eggshell-easy.
there’s layers to this. it takes
some digging to get to the core
of the issue, the so-called naked truth,
all the embellishments and adornments
stripped away, the bareness stinging.
I’ll let you scratch that itch
until my skin is raw and bleeding.
I can keep any secret but my own.
Emma Conlon
