deepundergroundpoetry.com
Being A Secret
"I like our love being a secret--
It's more private that way."
That's what she told me.
How she got me to be quiet.
Sharing kisses behind closed doors.
Holding hands miles away from anyone we knew.
I wanted to be proud of loving her.
She wanted me to hide--
She wanted me to be ashamed--
Feel awkward around her and her friends.
Because I wasn't allowed to say how close we really were.
So I was a secret for sometime.
If not from her friends, then from her parents all the same.
I was a secret, meant to feel ugly and ashamed.
A year and three months later.
We were over.
I was free from her reign.
But I was keeping a sinful secret myself.
The reason that we eventually feel to pieces--
After standing strong for so long, we were finally broken down and shattered to bits--
And finally we f e l l.
Her lies and twisted games eventually tore me apart.
But that wasn't enough, I had to go and break my own heart.
So I was the cheater.
A scarlet "A" across my name.
I was the wrong one.
The one that everyone glared at for hiding something from the one I was suppose to "love".
When she wanted to be loved--
Always on her terms, never on mine.
So when I finally had enough and went to find someone who would love me.
Who wouldn't hide me away, someone who be proud of me.
So I cheated. . .
Boo me if you will!
Call me a scarlet whore!
I don't care anymore!
Because once she was gone.
After a year and three months.
I could finally breath again.
I was allowed to feel loved.
I was allowed to feel proud.
I was allowed. . .
And I didn't have to be a secret anymore.
I could finally feel like a human rather than a thing.
I was allowed to laugh, to smile, to cry, to mess-up and make mistakes.
I didn't have to be perfect and fix all of her problems anymore.
I could be the one that needed fixing, I could fall down and have someone help me stand.
I wasn't the only one hurting and helping anymore.
And when I did help it wasn't kept a secret.
My love was not put on a shelf only to be taken down when the one recieving it was feeling lonely;
(and decided they wanted to be loved.)
I actually got to feel what it was liked to be loved.
I could give someone my heart and not be afraid that they wouldn't safely keep it.
And that is how it feels when you live your life, being someone else's secret.
It's more private that way."
That's what she told me.
How she got me to be quiet.
Sharing kisses behind closed doors.
Holding hands miles away from anyone we knew.
I wanted to be proud of loving her.
She wanted me to hide--
She wanted me to be ashamed--
Feel awkward around her and her friends.
Because I wasn't allowed to say how close we really were.
So I was a secret for sometime.
If not from her friends, then from her parents all the same.
I was a secret, meant to feel ugly and ashamed.
A year and three months later.
We were over.
I was free from her reign.
But I was keeping a sinful secret myself.
The reason that we eventually feel to pieces--
After standing strong for so long, we were finally broken down and shattered to bits--
And finally we f e l l.
Her lies and twisted games eventually tore me apart.
But that wasn't enough, I had to go and break my own heart.
So I was the cheater.
A scarlet "A" across my name.
I was the wrong one.
The one that everyone glared at for hiding something from the one I was suppose to "love".
When she wanted to be loved--
Always on her terms, never on mine.
So when I finally had enough and went to find someone who would love me.
Who wouldn't hide me away, someone who be proud of me.
So I cheated. . .
Boo me if you will!
Call me a scarlet whore!
I don't care anymore!
Because once she was gone.
After a year and three months.
I could finally breath again.
I was allowed to feel loved.
I was allowed to feel proud.
I was allowed. . .
And I didn't have to be a secret anymore.
I could finally feel like a human rather than a thing.
I was allowed to laugh, to smile, to cry, to mess-up and make mistakes.
I didn't have to be perfect and fix all of her problems anymore.
I could be the one that needed fixing, I could fall down and have someone help me stand.
I wasn't the only one hurting and helping anymore.
And when I did help it wasn't kept a secret.
My love was not put on a shelf only to be taken down when the one recieving it was feeling lonely;
(and decided they wanted to be loved.)
I actually got to feel what it was liked to be loved.
I could give someone my heart and not be afraid that they wouldn't safely keep it.
And that is how it feels when you live your life, being someone else's secret.
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