I've been told I'm an open book,
   predictable and eye-catching
but there are parts of me that
has once been dirtied by the hands
of my past
      that i can't let go of
      and that it is committed on following me
I fold these pages of me away,
still allowing people to read my story

hiding behind metaphors
and deep, romanticized poems and journals
just so at least you can imagine
     how i feel
     when I'm drinking sadness
     when I'm choked by anxiety
     when I'm strangled by fear
without having to know
the actual story I'm not ready
to share, just yet