a vault of secrets kept gaurd by the walls of my memory a picture of innocence sustained by the secrets that are inside
A Pandora's box of gross testimony shaded in by the lines of worry on my face a small undisturbed box of calamity and fear
Unguided and unaided, My own decisions staring me in the face, Unsure if my own self can sustain, let alone stand the problems of the world.
My shoulders alone cannot bear the burden, But I have already accepted the responsibility So I must carry the weight and imperceptable sadness of others so that they may flourish in place of me, so that they may blossom while Iwither away into age that is beyond my years.
Quietly, in solitude, silence, packed full of secrets that threaten to tear from inside me like a demented child from a womb, with claws so sharp as designed to rip me open and bleed out my sympathies.
Getting quieter now as I back away into the corner that I have reserved for myself, A somber face with the perilous, treacherous things of my past and the past of others contained in a box inside my heart. A ticking time bomb.