Faults

Picking up the pencil, or snatching up the pen, holding it close to the paper, and writing all I know.

Showing others what it's like, to live this lie, that we call life, writing down what everyone does, so hopefully they will see, their mistakes.

Documenting every detail, doodling down every sketching, capturing our worst moments on paper, to peer at later, with saddened eyes.

Holding that notebook, with all the secrets, close to my chest, not showing anyone, with lingering eyes.

Holding on tight, to all that I have left, showing no one, and dwelling in my own pain, to keep the ones I love, safe.

Writing down, all your faults, counting them, and stacking them up, comparing them, to my own mistakes.

They don't match, one is higher, but I will never tell, if it's mine, or if its yours, for there is the secret itself.