You said that’s where you put things, unwanted things—painful memories and events.
It’s a big file—File 13. A veritable Pandora’s Box which you bury deep inside your brain.
As an outsider, I fear that file. I fear I may be thrown inside, or probe so deep I’ll lift the lock and loose its raging contents to your conscious mind.
You are scared of File 13—
your demons in a box—
those things which haunt the texts and mental pages of your mind.
You avoid them, yet feed them, and they wait for you, patiently, till one day you might pull
that file and show those gasping thoughts the light.
I dread that file’s effect on you, I fear that it will shut you off— It will not let you find your love,
accept my love.
I fear the monsters in your brain, the creatures of a surreal past, will crush the petals of my rose—
my gift of love—
and leave it mashed into the dirt, the dying scent within the air, the wonder of its bloom undone, the promise of our love left bare.