The Closest Thing To Magic

 For every secret I have, I have someone worth telling it too. I have always thought that-that is how secrets worked. Secrets are more like covert clouds of whispers. Some secretive enough to only belong to a few. But very rarely do secrets stay with one person. That is what makes them dangerous yet magical. If there is a secret, precious, scary, evil or kind enough to be passed on to no one, that secret is as untouchable as the stars above us. I have a secret, only one secret. That secret is the one thing that has ever felt like mine. I cherish it because it is pure. I gaze at it when Im alone and I remember it when Im surrounded. Sometimes it is near and other times it leaves me for a while. Im confident about it because it is safe and yet I’m afraid of it because it is real. This secret could break many things, it can also build wonders. It can recover a failed attempt. It can let down a determined goal. It could be unreal and naive. It can be the most enchanting entity in disguise. It is a storm waiting to hit, and I am in control of the skies. It is a world waiting to unfold, and I have a tight grip on the hands of the clock. It could be imaginary but I can choose to kill it or let it live inside me.  It could forever be lost, but only within me. It is my secret, it is my magical, gold string of words that float inside my head. It is my secret and for now, I choose to let it be unsaid.