Black Hole

" And I have still other smothered memories, now unfolding themselves into lambless monsters of pain. "  - Vladimir Nabokov
   
The horrors that she kept attempting to conceal  
To bury in the darkest black hole    
To keep its existence contained in nightmares  
But because they have been burried in the dark and    
Secrecy is a way of life it has become a wild enraged creature    
A savage animal intent on being heard    
   
Striking against the uncomfortable confines    
A rage simmering in the wild creatures blood    
Like any rage it has its explosive point  
At which time it comes down to choices    
   
It nested inside my mind    
Making its home inside its labyrinth of connections  
Breeding rage and shame to form a    
Uniquely punishing hell in a continuous circle    
   
The creature paces waiting on edge to snap off    
Silenced horror and terror which    
Grows with pain and sadistic apathy    
Creating a reality that is a walking nightmare    
Interception on rational thought processes  
Distortion of social norms    
Floating lost deep in the darkest black hole