I now fear the act of writing
These things I have to say
Jotting them down, scribbling them out
Folding into secrecy, stowing them away
Slipping an array of papers into a back pocket
Or resort to hiding them under the bed
Doing everything and anything in my power
To get these thoughts out of my head

For if I write down these musings,
Set them into words sturdy, finite, and clear
Then I will have to face the truth hidden in catharsis
And that is what I ultimately fear—
A hidden meaning behind my words
Thus far lurking, but now they show
Leaping off the page, consuming me whole
Something, about myself, I didn’t want to know