I Never Told Anyone

I never told anyone
What the tiny book held.
I never said what those lines
Meant to me when I wrote,
My pen speaking in a purple soliloquy.
While they slept the pages kept
Secrets, truer than any friend.
Only it and I know
Of things unsaid, anonymous, not yet understood.
It catches me when I fall,
Netting me in when the words run wild.
There’s nothing quite like
Having your sanity bound between two covers.
But it’s never told anyone
What I’ve told it,
So the mysteries stay hidden
Until I’m watching from above.