Better Buried

Words conjuring memories Better left buried. Scenes flashing behind my eyes Falling in line Perfectly timed In sync with your story. And I bite my cheek Hoping to stop The home movie, scripted Before my time, Stuck on rewind, In the cinema of my mind. Because I want to be there for you When listening is all I can really do. And it's not your fault That this is a tale I know Far too well, One I've seen acted out In great detail. I never told you Of an 8 years old's First terrified 911 call. Or of the man Who taught me how to hate. The one who put darkness In my heart at a young age. So how could you know That the betrayal that you feel Is one that I don't have to pretend To know is real?