My mind always wonders back to you. To what we had. Always blaming time and circumstances, For the choices you made. And that’s fine. People place effort where they want to. And you chose to question and view the beauty of what we could have been.. As a burden. Always shutting me up at the first sign of upset So every time I tried to speak out I was ‘pathetic’ Words may not break bones But they stay with you… They haunt you. Pathetic? Me? For being rightfully upset? If so, what are you? For all you’ve done, and all you do?

Can you keep a secret? Loves grasp does not wear If meant to be The situation is, The hope and heart of all of this Will come together in a kiss And live Forevermore. For Love does not weary or shy It is ever hopeful Ride or die.

Well? Can you keep it in your head, Or hell? in your need which i fed.

When, You keep this in your chest. Then, Hold it under your breast.

Keep, It warm and loved, Sleep, With it and hold it gloved.

Well, Can you keep it on your lips. Quell, This so it doesn’t slip.

Fill, It if needs be. Thrill, And ache it to be free.

…

Love you baby 🖤

Can You Keep A Secret?

Who am I and where do I belong? Trepidation to the sound of my alarm

I greet each day with unpredictably Constant feelings of drudgery

Can You Keep A Secret?

I’d rather not arouse Each day is mundane No inspiration to be found

Can You Keep A Secret?

I seemingly revert back to a teen No expectations or responsibility

Can You Keep A Secret?

No one really sees What I have allowed myself to be

Can You Keep A Secret?

I’m pushed aside or they give in to appease Any requests that come from me

Can You Keep A Secret?

Each day I dwell on who I once was Was it an illusion? Or the person I’m running from

Can You Keep A Secret?

I’m not sure where I go from here- Lessons in life, I wasn’t prepared I want these demons to escape me

Can You Keep A Secret?

Psst, can you keep a secret? Why yes, yes I can. What is it? I found out the meaning to life! Wow, what is it?

You gotta know when to hold them - cherish, love and embrace the ones you love and care for and that do the same back to you.

You gotta know when to fold them - giving up isn’t easy but sometimes it just has to be done. Not giving up on life but giving up on someone who no longer serves the good in you.

You gotta know when to walk away - walking away or turning your back does not warrant you as a bad person. It simply means that being angry and having rage doesn’t get you far, you gotta think to yourself, is it worth my peace of mind to bite back with anger?

You gotta know when to run - if your gut or instincts tell you to get out of there and fast, you gotta run and don’t ever look back.

You never count your money whilst you’re sitting at the table, there’ll be time enough for counting when the dealings done - be humble and don’t flaunt what you’ve got. Some people’s soul purpose is to bring you down to their level, to belittle you and make you who you are not. There’ll be time enough for counting or rather to see what you got when you’re on your own with the people you truly trust.

That is my secret to life, don’t change for anyone else but YOU.

Shhh. You can’t tell anyone. Promise?

I’ve fucked up everything. Absolutely everything. Here, I’ll take you back to the beginning:

I liked a girl. She was beautiful, She was funny, She was chaotic, She was… She was amazing. She was everything I could ever want. And, by some miracle of fate, She liked me too. And we got together in a slightly weird way, But it had the same result. We hang out all the time, We texted for hours on end, We… We fell in love. And it was fireworks And shooting stars And bursts of lighting And everything magical. But then it all fell apart. She… She wasn’t always nice. My friends hated her. But I kept hanging on, Even when she ignored me, Even when she yelled at me, Even when she hurt me. But eventually it was too much. It just hurt so badly every time I talked to her. So I broke up with her. I didn’t regret it, I knew it was the right thing to do. I just couldn’t take it anymore. She was too much for me. But I still thought she was an amazing person, She was just meant for someone else. So why did it piss me off when she got someone else? It was someone I was friends with, Someone I knew would treat her right. Why did it kill me to see them so happy? Why did I act like I hated her, Feel so much annoyance - But whenever anyone asked, I meant it when I said she was a good person? Why did I feel… Whatever that was… When they broke up? What the hell am I doing? And why did it sting so much when she (Someone I supposedly didn’t care about) Texted me to say I was a good person and she wanted to be friends Only after they broke up? Why can I not get her out of my head, Even though we’ve been talking again for just over a day? Why, why, why? Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me? And… Is it truly wrong to want her back? It’s fine, as long as I don’t do anything about it… …right?

(Just to let you know. This part goes before the last chapter I wrote. Thanks for the reads!!)

I’d never felt more scared in my entire life. Holding Maisie close to my chest as I run through the streets, hoping that I’m not too late.

If I am then there’s no point, no point in . . . Life.

I pant as the hospital comes into view. Hold on. I think as I glance down at Maisie’s tired, lifeless face. God, please hold on.

My arms start aching as I come up to the hissing doors, I rush into them my eyes stinging with tears as I meet the eyes of a nurse passing by.

“Help,” I sob as she rushes to my side, grabbing hold of Maisie. “Help . . . Her.”

The nurse presses her fingers on the side of Maisie’s neck as more doctors crowd around me. They speak fast, I can barely understand them. It’s like another language, and I wish I knew it.

There’s a small rattling sound as a doctor rolls over a cot. The nurse who came to me reaches out for Maisie, giving me a worried, kind smile.

“What’s happening?” I ask as they take Maisie away from me, my arms relaxing from the pain. “Is she okay?”

The cot rolls away, with all the doctors surrounding it, still speaking those fast words that have no meaning to me.

The nurse wraps her arm around my shoulder, giving me a quick hug. “We’ll do everything . . .” She tells me.

Everything . . . Her words echo through my midn. We’ll do everything. What if everything isn’t enough, what if I lose—

I shake my head as the nurse guides me to a waiting room. There’s a young woman pacing the floor, biting at her fingers as she swipes at her tears. And an old man who’s sitting in one of the chairs next to a table with magazines piled up on it. His face is buried into one with the cover of a beautiful, big house. I can tell he’s not actually reading it, he’s just wanting a way to hide his fear, his tears.

“We’ll be out with news as soon as we can,” the nurse comforts me as she brushes a loose strand of her bouncy black hair behind her ear. “Is there anyone we can call . . . Your parents . . . Maybe.”

I almost laugh at that. My parents . . . My parents. The two people I don’t have anymore, the two people who might be meeting Maisie.

I shake my head again for two reasons. I can tell that she’s caught onto one of them. She parts her lips. Suddenly I can feel that she’s put the small pieces together.

“My brother . . .” I blurt out. “Can you call him and tell him where I am?”

The nurse licks her lips, nodding sweetly as she wipes at her dry cheeks. “Of course sweetie. Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

No. Is the first thought that pops into my head but then a million things follow after. Maisie’s aunt . . . She defiantly should know. Maybe Tommy can wait for her at Maisie’s house? Wait Tommy doesn’t even know about Maisie! Gosh I can’t beileve I still haven’t told him! It’s fine . . . We can talk . . . Hopefully all three of us. Me, Tommy and Maisie’s aunt.

“Um . . . Yeah, tell him to go to this address,” I write the address down on a piece of paper that’s sitting on the table next to me. “And tell him to get here as fast as he can . . . After he’s gotten Maisie’s aunt.”

The nurse nods fast, as she takes the paper from me. “I’ll do that.”

“Thank you,” I call softly after her as she walks down the white halls.

I take in a deep, deep breath. Breathing in that stinging smell of alcohol, that always makes me feel clean. The doctor smell, the smell I hope will be in my nose when they save Maisie . . . Not when they lose her.

. . .

“D!” Tommy shouts my name as my eyes shoot open. I wasn’t asleep, at least not yet. Or maybe I was . . . I can’t really remember.

I stand up, as Tommy floods into me. The smell of smoke creeping into my nose. It’s the best thing I’ve smelled all day. Tommy . . .

I peer over his shoulder to see a woman who smiles meekly at me, lifting one of her hands in a gentle wave.

Tommy breaks away from me, turning to the woman as she reaches to the back of her blonde pony tail and tightens it.

“Davian?” She says like a question even though I know she knows. “I’m Trish, Maisie’s . . . Maisie’s aunt.”

I take a step closer, she looks almost just like Maisie. She’s got a small, kind smile, except her eyes don’t light up the same way. I guess I can’t be judging that now, considering everything.

“Hey,” I mumble as Tommy puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Davian,” he whispers in my ear. “You wanna tell us whats going on?”

I nod once, as Tommy leads us over to three black chairs. I’m not sure what to say, do I tell them about . . . The crash. The mistakes I’ve made these past couple of months.

Trish takes a seat next to me, patting my hand as she settles into her seat. “I didn’t know Maisie had you.” She mutters. “She never mentioned anything . . . Anyone.”

I pinch my fingers as I watch my feet, what do I do? Tell them the truth. A voice echos in my mind, a voice that I swear is Maisie’s. Or maybe my parents? Or . . . The good side of me.

I tell them everything. All the details, all the things that have happened. The crash, meeting Maisie becoming friends with her. I didn’t exactly mention the part about falling for her, but I’m sure they get the idea. Or they will.

Trish lets out a long sigh when I finish, her blue eyes not at all as shocked as I was expecting. Tommy on the other hand is speechless, his eyes are on my forehead as he scratches his head.

“So you . . . You . . .” Tommy starts, his hazel eyes open so wide they almost seem to be popping out. Which is kind of unsettling and comforting.

My head moves up and down as I look at my folded arms. Dad’s leather coat glints in the dim light of the hospital, and suddenly I’m filled with peace. Telling the truth was right . . . I just wish someone else was here.

“And does Maisie know about . . . This?” Trish asks, her voice calm and collected. Either she’s an actor from Hollywood who’s posing as Maisie’s aunt or she’s just really good at pretending to be okay with this.

I shake my head as guilt washes through me. “I . . . I want to . . . I wanted to . . .” I trail as Trish pats my shoulder.

I look over at her. Tears are sliding down her cheeks as she gives me the weakest smile. “It’s okay . . . I’ve noticed that Maisie has been more happy lately. I’m guessing you’d have something to do with that.”

Happy? If she was happy the why are the three of us here? Was it meant to happen, Maisie getting hurt so badly? Fate . . . Did fate want me to tell the truth?

I shrug as tears begin to blur my vision. I can’t beileve I’m not getting yelled at. I want to . . . I need a punishment, I need to be hit or punched.

“Can you . . . Keep this between us?” I murmur as Tommy and Trish share glance. “I’m not exactly ready for her to hate me.”

“Yeah,” Trish and Tommy say at the same time. I almost smile, why do they trust me so much? I’ve barely even seen Tommy, and the way I acted throughout our whole life . . . And Trish. She just found out I killed her sister, and we just met.

I shut my eyes as I run a hand down my face. I’m so tired of this. It feels good to have everything off my chest, but I still need to tell the most important person in my life.

“Just promise you’ll tell her . . .” Trish whispers into my ear. “When you’re ready.”

And then it happens. I start sobbing. I feel like I’ve walked into a nightmare that’s also a dream.

Still, the only thought that runs through my heart is Maisie Bowden. And that’s more than perfect . . . It’s enough to give me hope . . . Hope that I thought I lost when I woke up to find that I was an orphan.

In whispers shared 'neath the moon's soft glow, Where shadows dance and cool winds blow, Lies a secret in the heart's deep chest, A silent word, unspoken, at rest.

Can you keep a secret, hold it tight? Keep it safe through the restless night? For secrets are like precious stones, Buried deep in earth's old bones.

They weigh heavy on the bearer's soul, A quiet force that takes its toll. Yet in your hands, they may find peace, A gentle release, a sweet release.

So can you keep a secret, my dear friend? Guard it close, until the very end? For in this moment, we find our trust. A whispered truth, a promised hush.

And if you can, then so shall I, Keep your secrets 'til the day I die. For in this world of noise and fray, Our secrets keep the chaos at bay.

I’m not okay. Something… Something broke inside my head. And I can’t fix it. I can only bury it under my ruined dreams, And hope the weight doesn’t break it more. I can only shove it to the side, And hope the force doesn’t shatter it more. I can only suffocate it, And hope the lack of oxygen doesn’t make it fade away, Like a dream without fuel. But it does. That broken part of me, It breaks, It shatters, It fades. And I can’t fix it.

But I’m scared of what I’d do If it was fixed. Who would I be? Would I carry this utter wrongness with me, But not have something to blame it on? What if I was “fixed” And nothing changed? What if that broken part of me Never existed at all? What if this is just how life is?

No, I think I’ll keep that broken bit.

(Here I bless you with an old draft I never published.)

I hold his hand as I drag him behind me through the forest the same way I did as a kid, the memory of his laughs echoing in my head as I hum the song he taught me, it’s ironic really; the lyrics following after.

“Got a secret, can you keep it? Swear this one you’ll save.”

I grin, maybe too wide, and run faster. His body unable to keep up with me.

“Better lock it in your pocket, taking this one to the grave.”

We swore to each other as kids to always meet in this forest if we had anything to say, promises, secrets. No one could hear us out hear. No one could hear our laughs.

Or his screams.

“If I show you, then I know you wont tell what I said.”

No one could hear us out there. But I never thought about him repeating what I said in places everyone could hear.

“‘Cause two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead.”

I smile as I drag his pale, dead body behind me by his wrist, his skin clammy from blood loss. My laughs echoing in my mind as his cries fade out in the background.

Irony is my favourite thing.