All Comments on 'Secrets'

It's like a house of love built on a bed of sand, though your metaphor's more revealing, stripping one partner's soul bare.

with hints of sheer brilliance...thanks.

....they are the bastard spawn of guilt, an infestation of our soul.The parasites live in our mind, chewing away at its host, never devouring enough to allow us to forget.

Your words ring chilling clear to me....excellent poem