I would ask you something,
but that would be asking.
any answer you gave
would forever be tainted by the fact
that it wasn’t volunteered
of your own accord.
but you don’t seem to want to
tell, so I guess I’ll have
to ask.

I would tell you something –
a true secret my heart hides
and guards with all its might –
but that would be far too
telling. lord, save me from this hell
that is living under your edict:
don’t ask, don’t tell.

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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