There is a secret I can't tell anybody.
It bursts from within me,
boiling my insides and
scratching on my heart.
It explodes out of me and
immediately,
it turns to mist.
It must.
There is a secret I can't tell anybody.
Secret stolen words
being played on a harpsichord
or a harmonica.
Which one is it?
Both touch my heart,
either in a beautiful spring song
or the lamenting notes of the blues,
coaxing my soul to sleep.
There is a secret I can't tell anybody.
Hidden in each drop of whiskey as we sing.
I still do cling to your picture for dear life.
Desperately.
Or is it slipped into the screws of my sunglasses. and hanging onto the fragments of my cut off jeans.
Seventeen. Seventeen.
Sixteen.
There is a secret I can't tell anybody. It's hidden in the way I feel when you touch my arm.
In between my heart strings when you hug me,
long.
Or the feeling deep down in the shank of my soul
when we say
***** you.
***** me.
***** us both.
and we'll both go to Hell.
Maybe for this secret,
maybe just to stay in love.
Can we please?
Stay in this raging sea?
There is a secret I can't tell anybody.
I will not tell a soul.
For if I do, I will only be causing the damnation of myself and this incarnate heart of mind.
But, I fear, I must talk to you about it. If I don't I will explode
and you will live with my guts on your face and my pulsating heart in the depth of your hand.
But,
I'm afraid if I do tell you my precious thoughts,
being vulnerable,
you will turn your back.
Like you usually do.
Like a bad habit.

Shatter it against the wall.

And you know I'm not the best guard of secrets.
Help me.

There is a secret I can't tell anybody.