in the house of secrets
silence was its own language
the walls whispered stories
only shadows understood
and every locked door
guarded a piece of someone
you’d never fully know
we grew up there
speaking in half-truths
and learning to walk lightly
love was there
though it wore a mask
soft enough to hold you
but always just out of reach
by the time we left
we carried the secrets with us
stitched into our skin like old scars
we never spoke of them
but in every glance
we knew
The Creative Chic
The Creative Chic 
Nice x
Thank you!
resonates in my soul
I can imagine so 😕
Really well written. A little dark though 😔.
Thank you
God, I hate how I can relate to this. Beautiful and painful.
I hate that you can relate too (((Hugs)))