It’s a story,
but you’re not ready to hear
and I’m not ready to tell.
One of us would be sorry,
so I’ll keep it under my spell.
Some secrets
are meant to be kept,
like whispers in the night.
They’re too precious to be shared,
too fragile to take the light.
So if you see me staring off,
lost in thought and far away,
know that I’m just keeping safe
the story I’ll tell someday.
But until that day comes,
I’ll ask you to trust me.
The story is mine to keep,
for now it’s best if it stays with me.
