| Sometimes Secrets don't make friends, or so I'm often told. But somethings are better left unsaid and some you have to hold. Sometimes you hide yourself, within an enclosed space. Sometimes you cry your heart out, in a sad, desolate place. I've done all that before and sometimes it comforts me. It's strange how people love it, and embrace being melancholy. Sometimes people get too close, and then try to know it all. But sometimes you need to shut the doors, and build up all the walls. In this world of negativity, I find too much dissention. It's too hard to find the good -or maybe I just don't pay attention |