Unspoken Knowledge

 

There are things that we know

that we never speak aloud,

like secrets,

but secrets have words,

and words can be spoken.

Not feelings,

because feelings  can be unknown,

formless and vagrant,

and even when they are powerful,

they are not knowledge.

 

No,

there are things we know

about ourselves,

about others,

about the Universe,

which we will never find the words for,

but they exist

all the same.

Dark truths,

of things based in another world,

but we know them to be true.

 

We each have horrors

all our own,

locked away,

deep in our psyche.

We often tell ourselves,

that these are just

fantasies and figments

of our childish minds,

and that we don’t believe

in such things,

and that buys us,

but some temporary respite

from our terrors,

but it is possible

to believe one thing,

or at least,

to very badly wish to,

and to know

something altogether different.

 

Perhaps this is why

these things remain

unspoken.

The deep darkness,

that if we all acknowledged

would tilt and skew our reality

so far off its edge,

that it would unleash

nameless horrors,

so unimaginable,

that we don’t even have words for,

much less the capacity to handle.

 

So we live our lives,

quietly,

and accept the little horrors

of the world that we know,

because in the dark parts

of each of us

reside echoes

of true terror

and malevolence.

 

Content,

we seldom dream of it,

and its tendrils rarely

snake their way into our world.

The things we believe

suffice to provide enough cover,

that these things we know

remain sleeping to us

and do not wake.

 

Perhaps on our death beds

we must face them.

Perhaps this terror

could be the “Hell” we read of.

There is light

where there is darkness,

but there are shadows

anywhere the light shines.

 

 

HG – 2020

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