the thing about my secrets is that i cannot even share them to my blog. i cannot write about them, cannot speak of them, cannot think of them. but i do, think that is. and in my thoughts, my secrets come alive like they were at one point of time. in their iveliness, in their beauty while they dance through the shackles of my heart, i feel two very strong feelings. one is immense guilt, for harbouring them, for nursing them, for having lived through them. and the other is an unspeakable truth that is better when it’s a lie. A truth that when it’s hidden from me is better for my sanity. 


these dark and murky thoughts of mine

i lay my heart in their horrible arms

they swallow me deep, they kill me some, they arise with my blood in them,

and i can feel them again in my veins

i can see them through my eyes again,

you asked me ones to look into your eyes and speak it through

i lied you said, my heart was mine then

but if you asked me now in my vulnerability,

you’d see

how powerful the satan inside truly is.


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