The Secret Unknown Of Keeping Secrets

It’s like stretch marks of a balloon filled with too much air
Threatening to pop at any second
A pop so loud that everyone jumps and kids scream
The fragile thin rubber balloon stretched as far as it can
At any moment it may pop or stay the way it is, unaffected, but changed

It’s like a high pitched screech on a chalkboard
Pierces your ears and makes you cringe
Try to shut it out, not hear it, anything to make it stop
But you can’t
You still hear it

It’s like a sun burn from a sun so far away yet so close it burns
An unimaginable distance far away, yet it burns
It burns over and over and deeper and deeper
You can never runaway from it
Burn after burn

It’s like sitting outside at night
So quiet yet so noisy
Bugs constantly chirping the same chirp
Over and over
You hear it constantly, never stops, never goes away

It’s like sitting in complete darkness
Invisible to everyone around
But still there, larger than life
No one knows

It’s like being buried at the beach
Deep in the sand, covered, weighted down
Can’t get out unless someone frees you

The power of a secret
Of keeping something known unknown
Always eats the soul
It’s like hide and seek at five years old
Loving the thrill of no one knowing, you’re hidden, unknown
Yet wanting to be found, seeked, released, not hidden, but known
But you never interrupt the game, never cheating
So your known remains unknown, secret, hidden
A weighted soul is then created

by Jennifer Unknown

Comments (1)

Jennifer, This is very powerful. I like it. I can identify with it and your analogies are wonderful, chosen with depth unusual for one so young. You must keep writing and never stop. Susan