Writers 
The truth I never told
Sitting in the quiet corner,
Communicating with that one friend who never fails me: the dark.
It visited to keep me company.
It moved quietly,
Accompanied by silence,
Who rubbed my back
And told me to breathe.
But the truth I never told
Snatched that comfort.
It clung to my heart like a louse.
I sat still, hoping that my only friend understood me.
Then tears came,
But they flushed my fears, not the truth.
I wish I had the strength
To face the truth.
I wish I had a spear,
Sharp enough to pierce the truth.
The truth that I kept from myself,
The truth I was yet to accept,
The truth I was scared to unwrap,
The truth that scratched my healing wound any time it passed by.
It peeled off my healing wounds and abandoned them as they bled.
Breathe! the night whispered, breathe!!
This time, it sounded different.
I felt the gentle touch of silence.
I felt the comfort from it.
It was deep and refreshing.
My wounds healed.
My fears became strength.
My tears battled and overpowered the truth.
This time, the truth was ready to come out.
I opened my mouth to speak.
Then my friend whispered,
"I already know. I understand."
Looking into the eyes of the dark,
I saw the understanding I always wished for.
