Knowing

Acquainted with many, known by none... a trove of secrets, carried like cement through the construction of life. So small, so compact yet so heavy. Space so limited yet so dominate. I try to lay them down, I can’t! They’re attached and competing with the routine, yet apart, a burden that isn’t shared, can’t be shared. Telling is sharing but those that listen will not hear. Can I be known if I have secrets? Will I exist if I am not known? Am I real or just an acquaintance taking up space? I beg to be known, on blended knee, arms outstretched, my cup held high, but life just passes by...