when suppression fails

it was concealed then and it is concealed now
seeking refuge on a different balcony
than the one we hid in above a crowd of three hundred
flat plastic shoes clacking in the dark
we came out of the chimney and i reached for your hand -
it had to be an act
i can't see your eyes but i can see your soul
it was dark then too
hot chocolate and spray paint
saturday mornings and sewing needles
you carried me on your back through places we shouldn't have been
the boy's washroom after hours
you shared your twix bar and you shared your mind
i didn't think about it -
not about the backseat
not about the golden retriever
not about the jack of spades
the end of the era came under the christmas lights in august
a mickey in one hand and car keys in the other
but that was not the worst thing
you told me to run
i wanted to stay
i wanted you to beg me to stay
blowing through the intersection -
but we continued to pretend
there was never anything there
and the morning before the flight
my suppression of you came up with the vodka
burning and searing
the thief got away and you did too
five hundred and sixty-five dollars
seven hundred and thirty-two days
gone with the ocean of you.