Don't Make A Sound.

today i went to a little old used bookstore downtown and i wish i was there now. the shelves were filled with so many books i have yet to touch and it was overwhelming, but in a way that made me feel hopeful and youthful to the fact that there is so much i haven't done. i felt so at home there in the silence, surrounded by all the books and words that filled the books and meanings that filled the words. i didn't want to leave. i just wanted to stay there in the poetry section sweeping my fingers across all of the dusty old spines. i read a poem in a book i don't remember the name of and it brought a tear to my eye. it was so beautiful. i didn't share it with anyone though, i wanted so badly to keep it to myself and hold on to it forever, and be the only one holding on to it. i realized i keep a lot of little thoughts to myself and i think it keeps everyone from knowing certain parts about me. i don't think anyone in the whole world can say they truly do know me: my every little freckle, and my every little scar. but i guess time will charm you, and it charms the ones you love.