Our school has a dark secret—
forget it, the whole town has a shape
of darkness that everyone ignores
Is it always like that in small towns?
Anonymous forms walk the hallways
students unseen, cheerleaders go missing
I sit at my desk as the teacher drones
feigning ignorance as I see silhouette shapes
hung from the neck from the tree outside
the next day the whole building tilts
four feet in the south wing, people
balance on the crooked corridor grounds
as they shuffle to their lockers
the sound of rushing water comes from
beneath the choir room and we find a lake
under the floorboards, with the bodies
of people we are not supposed to recognize
She's pregnant, she dropped out years ago
but the shame hangs upon our school
like a upside down crucifix
In English period we hear the sound
of a dying baby but we won't speak about it;
the quiet madness seeping in
our eternal complacency
Nescit cedere - Nōmen nesciō
we'll reminisce over these years
they tell us, the years of bliss before
miserable adulthood
