We all have secrets.
Some that we carry for others and some of our very own. Regardless of the nature of the secrets, they create a significant weight on our shoulders. The secrets we hold close to ourselves - the ones we are afraid to even think about - are the ones that weigh the most.
We carry these secrets in our bare hands in fear of losing them. Losing a part of ourselves. We grip them so tightly, so strongly, that they become imprinted upon our palms. Faint lines that will forever remain. So we shield our palms and we shield our secrets. Almost too well.
As time passes, our secrets become foreign to us. We lose sight of their reality and begin to question them. They seem to disappear, only to burn our palms and remind us of their existence. The faint imprints burn red and sink deeper into our flesh. The further we run from our secrets, the deeper they grow into us.
Some that we carry for others and some of our very own. Regardless of the nature of the secrets, they create a significant weight on our shoulders. The secrets we hold close to ourselves - the ones we are afraid to even think about - are the ones that weigh the most.
We carry these secrets in our bare hands in fear of losing them. Losing a part of ourselves. We grip them so tightly, so strongly, that they become imprinted upon our palms. Faint lines that will forever remain. So we shield our palms and we shield our secrets. Almost too well.
As time passes, our secrets become foreign to us. We lose sight of their reality and begin to question them. They seem to disappear, only to burn our palms and remind us of their existence. The faint imprints burn red and sink deeper into our flesh. The further we run from our secrets, the deeper they grow into us.
It’s time to let go and let my palms heal.
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