Little truths

I know a couple of things. I call them little truths.

These are the friends that fill the void, the never ending affirmations of who I am, and what I do. They listen. When my words echo in the night, they always find comfort in the depths of my uncertainty.

I do not tell the world.

I do not show them these little truths.

“What are you working on?”

“Something,” and I leave it at that.

I learned to protect what I know to be fragile.

I learned to forge what the world sees not, into something that once seen, can never be forgotten.

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