Under all my layers,
I told a dark secret of myself.
A secret no one will ever whisper in the wind of rumors.
A personality no one will witness,
unless they ender my unconscious.
Even the closest to my heart only see illusions of my one-side trust.
For there is a wall of sorrow, depression, distrust and precaution,
surrounding the vulnerable and emotional heart of the distant mind.
Something that I so call “the real me”.
It is hard to find an attachment to someone,
for every time it become so close to start thinking,
“this is it. I will finally have someone to keep and call precious”,
and they soon after, slowly lose contact and disappear.
Another lost brick to add to the wall surrounding my vulnerable feelings.
Its not like I need someone or anyone,
I’ve learned in my childhood to not to call any man or friend “someone close”.
But i wouldn't mind finding that someone.
I may never find the Key to unlock the door surrounded by the brick wall.
I may never find someone to call my own.
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