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The Secrets of Me
There are secrets scattered throughout existence
Secrets that will never see the light until
Irrelevance has become them.
Not these.
My secrets consist of love.
Love for a man for which
Can never come to be
because whenever I get close
He finds someone else.
My secret is that I read because I want what the characters have
I want that sense of purpose that these characters find in their lover
The sweet warmth in their touch.
The sound of three simple words that I have yet to hear
“I love you”
Three words that I want to matter,
Three words that I want to mean forever,
Three words that I want to hear and be able to say
“I love you too.”
My secrets consists of lies
I lie to the people around me
I act a certain way that is not my own
I act like I am sane, like I’m confident
But that couldn’t be more false
Inside, I am walking on eggshells
And with every small step
I could fall
I stutter when I talk to people I don’t know
I stress about every possible grade, because merit is all I have
I hide the feeling and despair that becomes me,
And I hide the constant desire to give in to an eternity in sleep.
Sleep where anything is possible,
and there is no pain
No shame
No obligations
Just darkness and serenity.
My secrets consist of me
Every secret I have
Every dark thought
Every feeling of doubt
Is all myself
No one truly knows me
I create this image of calm
And it is because of these kept secrets
That I am looking over the cliff that holds my sanity
Just waiting for me to take a leap of faith
And fall into the chaos.
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