I store this chest
in the depths of
the attic of my mind.

It is filled with
hundreds of  pretty notes
in all sizes and colours.

As colourful and pretty
as big or as small
as the lies you told.

Kept as a reminder
right next to the
dark cloud of my anger.

Inadvertently I wonder
about the things we keep
and those we share.

© november child
in response to: Random_Michelle Photo-Fiction #49