Should you be tempted to show me your mind?

Why can't you see past my eyes?

I am the unrevealing, and the unbias opinion you crave. 

Tell me your secrets so that i may keep them as my own. 

You tell me of a treacherous past. 

Yet I see these things pumping out of your sould night by night. 

Hiding the past will never let you rest. 

It will only make you brittle.

Until you pop and burst into a shower of tears. 

I know this, because you know this.

Make time to heal. 

And most of all make time for yourself.

Because waste is a thief.