She stands behind the curtain, always concealed; It takes her shape where she stands, only revealing her feet. I ask her questions, she answers me; the other times, she barely speaks. Is she naked? Is she scarred? The secrets are openly buried. Not one step forward, not one behind, she’s in the shadows, scarily quiet. … Continue reading Secrets.
Sometimes the best thing about love Is secrecy; the bane of secret love Is that it dies so.
You say I’m precious. You hid me from the world, like a secret, never to be told. Do I even know? Have you ever wondered? It’s too late, I can see it now. That fallen leaf that you saved amidst those pages lies there dried up and lifeless. Precious things whither too, darling. You don’t … Continue reading Precious things.
I don't turn pages I burn the book down We're all lost mazes And further we drown Memories, fading images Silence, our sound Living through phases, Spirits, buried in the ground