I am a keeper of secrets.
Having none of my own, I have been given them.
Perhaps the empty space inside my mind
Where they'd reside did they exist
Calls to be filled,
Sends out beams like a lonely lighthouse on cold tumbling grey waves.
Perhaps its siren song draws people closer,
Clustering like gauzy moths around a flame.

That girl there, she is going to die soon.
She smiles and her friends envy her.
They know not that her sun is almost set.
Not a one suspects.
But I know.
Our eyes meet
And for a moment we share a light,
Private and white hot
Like a thread of burning silver stretched between us,
Searing,
Thin as spidersilk but strong.
And then just as quickly it is broken and there's nothing once again.

That one there thinks she's already dead, inside.
She smiles and the circle of people that hover about her like a halo
Ripples with laughter.
They do not suspect.
But I know.
I catch her eye and see the hopelessness,
Smile at her and she smiles back.
But even I cannot tell if it is real.

I am a keeper of terrible secrets.