We all have our stories
Memories
With gaping holes
We fill them up
With what we want
Reality to be
Other stories
They can't be shared
Secrets
Too private
To talk about
And those
We give them words too
But never reveal
The whole truth
For we are afraid that
When given words
Our dreamlike secrets
Will become reality
The magic will die
And we will be left with
Ordinary memories
No different from the others
So we write
Poems, stories
Never giving out names
Hoping the unnamed
Will read them
But most of
We just want to
Let go of the secrets
That keep haunting us
No comments:
Post a Comment