Poem by Andre Mothersill

Poem by ANdrE MOThErSIll

Secrecy

I wonder why we become the holders of these untold stories.

It lives inside our bellies, coming up to the surface like a drunk throwing up in the bathroom.

The pain it carries is sometimes unbearable, making you want to scream into the silence.

I tell God my secrets, and sometimes my therapist. It releases oxygen to my body and I can breathe again.