I can say a lot of things,
But, I am afraid to do so.
Afraid, I will lose whatever is left,
And console my words to go.
I can say a lot of things,
But get scared on opening up too much. Perhaps because life hasn't been kind to me, And I don't want to make it worse as such.
I want to confess my secrets,
But I don't know if I have anyone to listen.
Deep down, it all gets tangled,
Like the fabrics of linen.