Secrets

What are secrets

But blights on the heart

Yet we all keep them

Store them there

It doesn’t have to be

A monumental thing

Though often

They may be

It can be a small truth

We hide from the world

Ourselves even

But it causes us to act

Against our nature

Causing small and large breaks

In the hearts of others

Our own

Already suffering

How do you purge

All the secrets?

You write

Until your heart

Bleeds true