I have a secret. It’s really big.
So big, that I don’t think you would believe me.
It starts with a heart and pain and loss;
And big round eyes and eyes of glass.
Believing doesn’t matter, because it’s a secret
And secrets are secret so they won’t be doubted.
Dellusionment and lies are not secrets;
Secrets are precious and mysterious.
Who kissed who and drowning in nicotine
Are of absolutely no importance.
They are not secrets, they are tales,
And they are not precious.
Gossip flies and stings and dies:
Secrets live on.
Fragile the secrets that I hold.
Fragile and sweet.
Things of the heart and things
I would keep.
Who I am is a secret, and so are you;
We are all secrets, but I don’t know them.
Sometimes I wish I did:
Because you are wonderful.
My secret is so big,
You wouldn’t believe me.
That’s why I’m not going to tell you.
And why you can’t tell me.
You couldn’t if you tried:
There is too much to tell,
And you still don’t know it all.
It’s too big a secret.
It’s really big.
You know more than you let on.
But then you close your eyes.
You get scared of the mysterious,
And it becomes deception and lies.
But that’s the first step.
Be scared, but don’t get scared away;
Secrets are precious,
They hide from probing fingers.
But if you don’t probe, just ask and seek,
They will tell themselves:
Because you have a right to know.
It will take forever to learn everything
And there will still be more to learn.
About love and pain and sacrifice.
About death and beauty.
Why does the heart ache, and that aching
Make it more beautiful?
Why does hatred lead to love,
And sanctify it?
How can loss be redemptive
If all it is is sacrifice?
It is a secret.
Why do I love you and court pain?
Tell me if you’re worth my time.
Why must a clement day come before rain?
And the Sun will rise and shed its light,
Flooding the hills and valleys and golden
Rays will burst forth on a new day,
And all will be made known.
Until then, it is a secret.
Is it worth it?
I don’t think you will believe me.
The secret is too big.