My secret Garden

Thou shall be pardon …
Only shall thy see the reflection of one’s eye.

Seeing is believeing, many will say.
But some things are best left unseen;
Whatmore, of its known undiscovered territory that is not in any favour to be shown or exposed.
Uncovered.

Was this meant to be.
Or was this just an excuse to blame it on the past for the past has its vicious claws waiting to spraw its way out of its burial.

The picture has become abit faded; in my thoughts.
Am I a form of his vital catalyst to accelerate a reaction as a form of blockage to diminish his pain.
That hurts.

As much as I disregard my feelings …
It seems like I have a spare storage that saves and locks the real thing.
And its only meant for feelable.
No deletes. No erase. And no talks about it.

My heart contents all sorts of incidents, experiences, accidents, fatal misfortunes that desires not to be shared nor to be revealed but only on secret felt.

Don’t ask me why.
Coz, I don’t know it myself.
It’s not a secret.
Honestly!
It’s just that it does not want to opened.
For the pain was already brutal.
Discussion its flaws will only cause full blown embarassment and talk abouts for others – for hear say, hear say.

I rather locked it in and find my own way of opening it up.
Not for anyone’s perusal, and not to be judged.
Just for me to vision it from my secret garden.