I know its stupid, but I had a diary.
I had something that I wrote everything down in.
Something that had all my secrets.
Something that had everything I've ever felt.
I wrote in it everyday.
My whole life was inside that book.
It felt good to write everything down.
It's like I was telling someone,
but no one ever found out.
There were no
judgements.
But now they know.
They know everything.
All my secrets are out.
All my feelings are known.
And now I cant write everyday.
My whole life is now inside their heads.
I have to hold it all inside now.
I cant tell anyone,
because they already know.
And they judge.
