Within the depths of my soul, which has both an icy wasteland and a fiery hellscape. I peel back my skin, layer by layer, and hide the sharpest secrets there. They’re etched along my ribs like hieroglyphs. Entwined in my desperate hopes of finding a better tomorrow. Encased in my heart, to be taken with me to my grave. Within the lines of all the poems I write, yet hidden well enough that no one will ever find them. Sometimes, they will escape me entirely, to float away into the ether, never to be found or remembered again. Gnashed between my teeth like strawberry seeds, glistening in the ridges of my molars before being locked away behind a clenched jaw. I’ve left some tethered to rocks I’ve thrown into a river, to eternally reside in a watery grave. I whisper to the trees, speak to the wood nymphs, and share with them some secrets, knowing they will never betray me. Beneath the bark, my secrets are held tight against the trunks of trees, where the nymphs store them. In the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow - who would think a secret was hidden there? Each color holding a different secret that disappears with the rainbow.
I hide my secrets in places too many to count. But will they ever truly disappear when I am gone?
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