He listens ... but never speaks
They store their memories, thoughts, emotions in this one diary.
The secrets of my friends and I are well hidden in me. They are all recorded, memorized and replayed. As he walks the cold, darkness of their secrets follow behind. Whispers and murmurs echo in my ear. How tragic, sad, happiness, excitement and madness all in me; not of my own but of others.
It haunts and taunts at my soul...
