I can’t dismiss my inner devils for they are part of me. That which is part of me has been concealed behind veils of thorns and my heart has bled in agony with every beat and every sigh.
A bag full of secrets. A heavy load of stories and wistful longings. I carried them over my shoulder and I knew that I would have to read every single page and I did. I contemplated the words which hid behind feelings of fear, confusion and most of all, of loneliness. A bag of secrets, a heavy load of untold confessions, unfulfilled desires and unsurmountable mountains of pain.
I write my secrets down on a piece of paper, I throw them into the bag and hope for redemption. Everyone on my path took the chance, for it was a promise of absolution from internal conflict and despair. The moment the secrets land in the bag the pain subsides and we continue with our lives in insatiable longings. Who hasn’t questioned their sanity? Who hasn’t internally judged? It is the irony of life to have to face your own deepest, darkest secrets to be truly free.
Has the time come for me to look ahead instead of looking back? The right time never comes. The heavy bag on my shoulder seems to get heavier and heavier and there is no one to carry that burden for me; no one can for it is me and only me who knows what’s in that bag and it is me only me who can put it down knowing that I shall for always endure.