Don't ask me if I can keep a secret.
I'll never be able to keep one again.
Because you asked me to keep a secret before tangling your hands in my hair,
holding my hands inside of yours, and placing your lips on my cheek
as you whispered how you feel about me. I felt it too.
But a person you love shouldn't be kept a secret from everyone else.
It should be shouted from rooftops and mountains until you're sure
there's not a single person who doesn't know.
I was your secret, and now I'm not very good at keeping them.
YOU ARE READING
This Book is Probably About You.
PuisiHis eyes are the perfect poem, i'll spend forever trying to write. On an endless search for adjectives, to capture them just right. I could try to write their meaning, but I think you'd fail to understand. 'Cause nothing quite that beautiful could b...
