Indiscretion

Again.
Loud words spoken softly to a stranger.
Why do these secrets flood,
as if in escape.
I can't harbor these huge pieces that are clotting in my mouth.
So I lean in, closer, closer,
the surrounding strangers start to wonder the topic,
closer,
and I say what I have been battling.
Once confessed it feels lighter, almost too
silly to be a secret.
It changes color and pales like a plucked flower.
The scent is gone.