Twisted Pages.

My paper is crumbled up in my hands. I feel betrayed, I can't help but want to tear the pages of this notebook out. They reveal to much, reading each words makes me feel naked. My words always telling the truth, I never write a lie unless its fiction. So balled in my fists are the word of a lover written to you. Things I am unwilling to admit written plain for you to see. So, I tore out the pages and I twisted them into my fist. I do not want you to know my inner thoughts, or how much I need you. I tighten my fist, why can't I stop from writing all this? Why can't my pen stop kissing my paper and spreading my secrets across its lines? I know why I won't stop it because I love the freedom it gives me not having these secrets on my chest. To not bare the burden of things unsaid. So I take the page and smooth out the wrinkles and place in on the table where you can find it. Because these twisted pages lead to twisted talks that lead to our in tangled love. So if it takes every secrets and twisted page I got to keep us this way, I will keep the pages coming.