just tell me the truth

an old childhood lesson
brought up from the depth of memory. 
"you can't handle the truth"
when you held me close and smiled at me, 
you weren't ready. 
and now,
the truth of my love lies around, 
forgotten but not discarded. 
like an old relic at the bottom of the cupboard
that you can't bring yourself to throw away. 
the truth of my desperate need, to shine for you, 
casually thrown into the drawer of odds and ends. 
my whole body smiles when i'm near you, 
like that one plastic bag that holds all the others. 
like the matchstick that never gets struck, 
used only for tricks to impress the crowd. 
like slipping on the stairs, 
and the sigh of relief of not falling. 
the truth of my love shocks you into forgetting. 
like the flight crash that never happened. 
where do you store your void? 
and what are you going to do with me?