He told me a secret once,
to never keep a secret.
He warned me,
to never unravel,
reveal or share,
his and ours secret.
I never did understand
him then,
I do not understand him
now either.
What is a secret?
A dream locked in a box
or a rejection letter hidden
in a cupboard?
Is it a heartbroken tear
rolling down your cheek?
or the infidel guilt rising
in her heart?
Is it a secret from the world?
Is it a secret for the world?
Which world are we keeping it from?
The one we live in, or the one
that lives inside us?
A secret can hurt, kill,
kinder or destroy –
feelings, family, friends
and future.
But those who know,
can they be happy?
For knowing what others don’t.
Do you live with it?
Should you die with it?
Doesn’t it make you restless, scared,
unfaithful or treacherous?
What about times, when no one tells us
but, we know what we should not have known?
What then?
Spill it?
Keep it?
Die a little everyday, with it?
To save what stays,
To save the past, present
but for how long do these secrets live?
Do they have a timeline, or
do they just die the way they came to life?
Secrets, he did tell me once,
to never keep them
to never unravel,
reveal or share,
his or ours, secret….
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