The Crux Of The Matter Poem by Mary Champion

The matter is closed
but I am trapped inside,
still entangled in the anguish
and the turmoil of emotion.
Nobody wants to talk about it anymore.
They have all moved on -
except me.
But they were only observers
whereas I was a participant -
possibly an instigator.
Will they miss me,
notice I am gone,
reopen the matter and set me free?
Or will I die -
a prisoner of remorse and disillusion
nailed to the crux the matter?