Free Verse
We Must Share Our Stories
I used to believe that they would be safe as long as I kept my stories safe in my head. Safe from the world's eyes, from judgment, and from slipping through my fingers and being quickly forgotten. But it was different; stories are not treasures you unearth and hide underground, hoping no one will find and steal them. They are akin to birds – if you don't let them out, they will die, their song erased. When I was younger, I clung to my stories like honeybees locked in jars, their humming perpetual and their light flickering. I would use them to pass the time, to keep myself warm in winter's chill, but I'd never set them free. And in time, I would take them for granted. And they would slip through my fingers. Little by little, the stories would escape, and their colors would dim. The world became dull, the seasons unchanging, and the adventure was less thrilling. Eventually, the stories turned into distant memories. I realized that stories, like the sun, need to shine in the lives of others for them to be as brilliant as they could be. Collect and keep them to yourself; their warmth will eventually run out. This was my mistake and my lesson.
By Owen Belen2 years ago in Poets
