Dead men don't talk.

I lost someone, years ago.
It felt like having me inside torn and taken away.
I felt hollow and that hurt.

I knew someone,
who caused me great pain,
He stole precious things inside me.

I did terrible things,
long ago when I thought it didn't matter anymore.
There was a man, who drowned me as much as he saved me

But I got over it,
Eventually.

It all faded in that strange thing we call the past.
To me, they're all dead.

Dead men don't talk
and if I hear their voice,
it's only the whisper of my old self
calling like a sirenn.

But I know the trick
I see the similarities and push them away,
I lock them in the damp vault where I locked the dead men.