Secret // Katherine Reynolds ‘22

Secret

Katherine Reynolds ‘22

Ihave a secret That beats its wings against the bars of my rib cage And flutters within the confines of my chest cavity. I have tried to kill it with a thousand glittering distractions, But it only returns with more force than before. I have a secret That is warm like fingers intertwined with my own And sparkles like eyes I only now dare peer into. I do not know the taste of it, for which I am relieved. I tell my secret to go away, but it returns, taunting me. I have a secret That aches like a smile and stings like rejection. It burns like hot oil, but I’d rather bear the pain than voice it out loud. Instead, I will lock it within the cage of my heart, And I will ignore its frantic beatings. And perhaps one day, I will open my rib cage once more, And my secret will be lying on its feathered back, scaly feet sticking into the air. And in that day, I will smile, knowing that I have a secret no more.