I hold a key
A key to tear apart
To turn years to dust
To turn memories into phantoms
I hold a key
To hone bitterness
Into a conundrum of love-hate
A potent poison of tales
I hold a key
Tightly in my palms
Precariously in throat
My palms might sweat
And let slip
My throat might bob
And swallow the secrets
Forever
And so....
I must Hush earnestly.
A/N: In conclusion, secrets are something else.
YOU ARE READING
HUSH
PoetryI hush, you hush, we hush; whenever we are dragged below the surface of void happiness to a place where we are lost in oblivion. Never speaking, always thinking, brimming with melancholy, anxiety and fears- always hush, hush and hush until we slowly...
