Swallow it.
Chase it with coffee, soda, beer.
Be careful, though:
Its little legs can latch in your throat
On the way down and climb
Back up through your esophagus
And out your mouth.
Under no circumstances
Can you allow this to happen.
It has now seen the ugly things
That are digesting in your stomach,
And will tell everyone about them.

Bury it,
Next to the images of the others
Who’ve you’ve loved before,
And the ways that love has been received,
Transmuted, released.
Plaster it over your heart like caution
Tape, as a grim reminder
Of vulnerability, of how you’ve grown
Stronger, wiser, more judicious.
Love is not a weapon
You will allow anywhere close
To your breast.

Encode it.
His mathematical mind
May be able to unravel your lies
Eventually, find the cipher
Hidden in
“Let me know you got in alright,”
Or
“I really care about you.”
If he is able to break your code,
Let it be broken, and pray
That this time will be different,
That your loose tongue
Will be handled with care.
If it is not,
It’s your own damn fault.