Our secrets are us, and
What are we without the guilt?
What are our eyes without the windows?
And what are the windows without the curtains?
Our lies are us, and
What are we if we didn't spray them?
Spray the lies over us,
Or in the air in front of us and stepping through.
What are we if the lies don't leave traces after we left?
The bittersweet artificial aroma of fruits and flowers,
Like our favorite perfume.
And what are we without these two things?
The secrets,
The guilt that throbs, grows inside of you.
Feeding off of what you give it, like the food a mother eats through the tube to her baby while pregnant.
Yes,
Pregnant.
Because you carry this burden, and you grow heavy with weight.
Because you become sluggish and swollen, emotional and slow,
Because you are responsible for what's growing, growing, growing inside of you,
When it kicks,
When it moves,
And when it pushes out.
And then you are in pain.
Yes, secrets.
But lies?
Lies are saying you were never pregnant at all.
Never dealing with the secret, just adding more to it so when you come back,
You find it fifteen years old.
Lies, to cover up.
Concealing.
Playing professional make-believe,
Where,
No,
There are not dragons and princesses, knights and mages wielding swords and wands for victory and glee.
But knives that pretend to be pen and words that pretend to be paper.
And you attempt to write a story, sell it.
Never realizing all the holes that just don't make sense.
But what are people without secrets and lies?
Without the guilt and truth?
Without the tragedy and hurt?
Nothing..
Simply,
Nothing,
And everything that has to do with it.
-D.
YOU ARE READING
No More Hiding
Non-FictionWhat's the point in hiding the truth? TRIGGER WARNING: -EATING DISORDERS. -DEPRESSION. -SELF-HARM. -SUICIDE. -ANXIETY. -HEARTBREAK. -ASSAULT. IF YOU FIND YOURSELF SENSITIVE OR EASILY TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THIS CONTENT, PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE. You have...
