The other day, I walked the sunset shores,
Thinking of orange and red,
Of water and ripples,
Of the seemingly random things that ail me.
You know why I talk to you?
Because you listen,
Even when you don’t have to.
You listen to my words, my love, and my tears,
You listen to my broken pieces, my shaking muses, and my fears,
You listen to the wild lies I say, and the truths I don’t,
You listen to the slow, scratching pain I put forth, and the words I won’t.
The worlds I hide within me,
Are the worlds I tremble against.
These worlds, these illusions,
Pulse incessantly within my head.
Sorry, I can’t contain them anymore.
Someone needs to know,
And someone can’t know,
Of the effort it takes,
Of the mind-shattering aches,
Of the numbing cold,
Of the tales untold,
Of the recovery I promised myself,
Of the feelings I rallied against,
Of the temptations I gave in to,
Of the things I can’t bear to do,
Of the paths I’m afraid to lose,
Of getting my heart in a noose,
Of the blood flowing through my veins,
Of the things mumbled amidst euphoric rains.
Now that I’ve told you this,
Now that I’ve let it go,
Now that you can probably see,
Now that you possess a little piece of me,
Please keep it to yourself,
Someone needed to know,
But someone can’t know.