My Best Kept Secret

July 7, 2016

Truth is, I prefer not to talk about you. 

Not to mention how I feel when you hold me,

What your kisses mean.


Truth is, I wake up I turn to kiss your back,

Only to realise you’re not here anymore.

You’re my heaven and you’re my personal hell.

Everything I want, and everything I despise.


So no, I don’t want to talk to my friends,

About how happy you can make me,

About how mean you can be,

How my every nerve acts up when you come near me.


I don’t want to hear about how “he’s so cruel” or

“I don’t know, he’s inconsistent”, “I don’t get it”.

They don’t have to get it, they’re not there,

They’re not me and you together.

Keep the “You look so happy!”, “looks beautiful”,

I already know. I was there.


So, I’ll mention I saw you, say it was OK.

We had a good time.

I’ll talk sex, I’ll talk food.

Why explain something when I barely get it anyway?


Truth is, I prefer not to talk about it.

You’re my best kept secret. 


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