The ones you have placed away; tied with pretty bows of lace and frill. The ones that create shame and make your eyes rain upon porcelain cheeks. Tell me the ones that keep you from jumping into your life. I know that roses and jasmine flowers hide the scent of blood… The blood that once flowed from your wrists into your bathroom sinks and garden tub. I promise not to judge your pain, your reality, your dreams… Tell me your secrets and maybe we can both find a little piece of solace to not hide away in, but to come alive in.