“Can I tell you a secret?’

Has anyone in the history of the world ever said no, no you cant’t .

Spare me your secrets because mine have been tearing my seams. I have secrets flowing in my blood and whispering in the hollows of my skull and I can’t keep them out and I can’t keep them in.

“Can I tell you a secret?’

Please don’t; I have too many of my own and they feel like I’ve swallowed stones, like I’ve swallowed glass and I’m bleeding, my hands are red and there’s no space for anymore. You tell me a secret and maybe I should tell you one in return but I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can’t. My secrets are too big and the stakes are too high and the moment has passed so let me hug my stories like blanket to keep away the monsters at night.

“Can I tell you a secret?’

Please do, I’m a collector of stories, of secrets like pebbles dug up at the beach and kept in glass bottles. A secret smells like sea salt, like cement, like blood, like nothing and like anything you want. Tell me a secret, tell me a story, tell me something to keep me awake at night. Show me your demons, maybe we’re not as alone as we think we are.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Sure sweetheart go ahead, how much worse can it get? Let’s just get it over with. And later we can watch the sky and hope there were shooting stars because I don’t want to watch something else crash and burn. If every secret was a star we would be blinded so let’s watch the night while we can and wonder if there are secrets on the moon.



One thought on “Secrets

  1. thereddragon555 says:

    beautiful. as usual. I wonder if it’s possible for you to create anyhting sub-par. You’re the Einstein of good wriring.

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