They say a woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets.
Well, if we realize it, people do whatever they want in oceans.
They piss, they throw their garbage and their shit, they kill out of control the life they have inside them, they test nuclear weapons, they throw chemicals and other shit that I can’t recall right now.
But most of all, people throw in the oceans their secrets.
They stand on the edge and talk to the ocean, scream at it, cry and ask why.
Like it doesn’t have enough inside it…
It seems like I lost the point.
But what I want to say is that I’m not the ocean.
I threw the secrets that hurt my heart (mine and yours) in an invisible notebook.
I burned it and now I’m a cloud.
I can't keep your secrets...just your dreams.
I can't keep your secrets...just your dreams.
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