Don't Tell

He envies my “courage”, thinks there’s naught I don’t tell,

Different from his silence and his shy “Don’t tell.”

“Don’t ask,” urged the sergeant, in my dark dreams of war,

Young soldiers naïve to the thought of my Don’t Tell.

Ev’ry touch to my body, every glance she sends low,

Every spark through my skin, it implies “don’t tell”.

“How are you?” she’s asking, but I don’t give the truth,

Her gaze tries to seek it, but my eyes don’t tell.

“I won’t ask,” he says simply, and he turns away,

But I promise to his back: I’ll defy Don’t Tell.

He stays silent on the ride up, I know he’s not fine,

But I don’t try to force him – I know tough guys don’t tell.

Coming out wasn’t courage, I cringe when they cheer,

But they know it: my comrades, my allies don’t tell.

It scares me to speak, don’t want to talk to her,

But I’ll have to – my frown and my sighs don’t tell.

My truth is escapist – my candor, remission –

There’s deceit in my ease and my wry, “Don’t tell.”

Out there in the battle, where a soldier may fall,

My only words left for comfort are “Don’t die. Don’t tell.”

It was in every word, the cruel implication –

Every time what I heard was “Good bye. Don’t tell.”

To him, I say nothing. I don’t let him know.

I shrug and agree and I don’t – I don’t tell.

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