What are you hiding?

166 53 33
                                              

There's a drawer of your secrets at mine,
They smell like stolen Grete, your invisible tears and musk that hung in the sky,

Like how you struggled to find home,
So you nursed empty bottles 'til three,
Until I stumbled my way to you, we danced to
Phil Collins till morning came along,

Like the first day you dared to read my eyes,
And fell in love with the stories I write,
Over cups of ristretto, the diary I wrote when I was twelve and dreams of reaching heights,

Like the day I tasted your poison on my lips,
The kind I'd die and came back for,
Because it's dangerous, the way you set the rythmn before the shot of lust hits,

Like how I watched as you cried in the fire,
For help, for mercy, for life, for me,
None was given, and I'm sorry when I said I loved you, I am a liar.

Don't you worry, I will keep it safe with me,
Forever etched in these pages,
You will come alive when I need you to be here with me, your secret is safe with me.

Ripples in the BayouWhere stories live. Discover now