Sanctuary [Poetry]

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There are part of ourselves that people don't know—not even your friends, family, or lover if there is. We are all a vault of secrets we refused to be opened. We hide the key somewhere impossible.

There are secrets, no matter what, will be buried on our graves.

That's when guilt will start eating our minds. Secrets are only kept so strict when it's something we know we'll ruin us, and will cause pain to our dear ones. We hide it so well, feeding ourselves with lies that we're keeping it for the best of the many.

And we all know that at the end of the day, we're just selfish little beings, not wanting to be left alone, hating to be loathed by some.

And so, we become the person we swore not to be.

--
15Sept2019