We all have secrets. I know I do. And at some point we are on the threshold of sharing them, spilling the dark molasses of our past. Secrets don't come out quickly; they have a slow and steady stream of excuses and disclaimers attached. However once they begin their journey from your mouth to an ear; they become listlessly self destructive.
Sometimes I think I can read peoples secrets, just like I can read peoples ways. How do I know? Because they are my secrets and my ways too, all kept deep and hidden until we are drug through the darkest part of vulnerability and have no choice but to come clean. Or until we are freed enough to fold them into little notes and pass them on without care.