Don't you have secrets you can't tell anybody?

Secrets you've kept like sacred promises?

All your life feels like an unopened box

If you let the light in, your demons escape.


If my secrets had color, they'd be red, like blood.

They pulse and they throb in my mind.

The weight of my sins is the weight of the sun

Neverending, all-consuming: a flame.


What they don't know, what they never expect

Is that I'm not as innocent as I appear.

I wear a shield in the shape of "ordinary,"

One that gets good grades and reads Shakespeare.


Why do they make such a big deal out of nothing?

Does it matter that I don't even love him?

Does it matter that I'm not even his?

What right do they have to judge my very spirit into hiding?


Years don't matter to us.

Sixteen years old means I can make my own choices.

But my choices are evil, the work of a deadly sin.

If they knew, they'd say that my body is soiled.


Is it wrong to feel lust?

Is it wrong to give in?

Would you call me a whore if you knew what I've done?

Would you call me a slut? Do my actions offend you?


We learn so young that our bodies are wicked

We avoid pleasure like a plague.

They teach women we're dirty if we let a man touch us

But so long as I'm safe, is dirty a crime?


If the God living up there is the God they speak of down here,

I know for sure that I'm hellbound.

But if I had a say, If I had a choice,

I'd like to believe I'm forgiven.


I'm a regular teen, just like all of you.

I spend lazy afternoons watching too much TV.

I go to school, try to keep my attention on the teacher.

I'm a little distracted, but who isn't these days?


Sometimes I'm lost in those nights full of bliss,

In that incredible passion that whispers to me,

Like it's calling to me from the depths of my unclean soul.

If you catch me daydreaming, my mind is most likely with him.


I'm afraid to tell you who I am.

I'm afraid to tell you what I've done.

I'm afraid to disgust you, afraid of the disapproval in your eyes.

I'm afraid that I care what others may think, but I keep all of it inside.


If I ever find the courage to step out of the shadows,

To pull back the heavy curtain of shame that enshrouds me,

I hope that you'll understand.

I'm not "easy." I'm still the same me.


But today, I'm still pretending.

Today, my sensuality is smothered.

Today, I'm still a dreamer.

Today, my sins are still concealed.


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