Secrets and those that keep them. Like a cyst or a boil on the skin day by day the number of people who know or notice starts to grow.  Swollen, and warm inches from touch one can only do some much covering up or attention diverting before it’s called out or worse. At some point it tears; it being the contract of trust or the contact of skin and out forth comes a flow of the truth throbbing out the abscess with putrid coloring steam and that stud backing smell. What is faith in institutions without discourse with those in charge? How can one know God if in a whole life they’re silent to their one’s prayer and cries? How can one believe in authority when it’s a self feeding structure; plucking tribute gained food from its purveying followers. What good is the common folks knowledge when it’s filled with the meddlings of the media and executive management?