Exposed

Once there was a secret. It was something I saw, no heard, no did, felt, knew. And I didn't tell anyone. The longer I held it, the bigger it grew until I had two heartbeats, two minds, two stomachs.

And the secret was hungry. It growled whenever it saw other people. Each time faces shrank from words that stung me or smiled at the same invisible joke, each time my eyes met someone else's after the thing I thought only I knew, my secret wanted to feed.

But I just did my usual business--rode the bus, went to class, bought a coffee in the shop and left my starving secret to claw at the back of my mind.

I couldn't trust its voice.

What if it went running into the street shouting like some raving lunatic too loud for anyone to hear? Or what if it whispered so so softly it scared even me away? There was never an invitation for my secret to say, no paint, no write, sing, dance somewhere and feed off the collective genius that was out there waiting, seeking, burning to be heard. Until now.