I talk but you'll never hear me freely conversing about my reality..and that's just me...
Call me secretive, it's okay.
The right people have heard my reality and have found ways to fill my empty soul...
I won't stop anyone from sharing sacred pieces of their life with me, but I've stopped myself multiple times... The wound on my back is still fresh and deep, I'm busy wiping my blood off a knife I thought would protect me..
Drenched in pain, I'm still a walking diary and I'm taking all your secrets to my grave..
Only because I'm loyal to pain.