I want to tell the whole story,
As I remember.
I want to hang the shit-stained sheets on the line, grab a bullhorn and start broadcasting every single thing that has lived in my mind for these
forty years, six months and ten days.
I want to publicly humiliate and crucify all those who have left evidence in my memory, I want to trample the image of some
who are thought flawless.
But, sometimes, I just want to let it go
And all of the time, I wish I had no tale to tell.