My Secret lives
In the scratches of my arms
It feels light,
Yet you can feel it
Non stop

It always feels like
Hiding, in its jumper
It tries to hide
And scatters whenever it moves

It makes me feel
Different from my friends
It digs a hole
To never be seen.

It is tasteless
Yet it wants to jump,
Jump around my tongue

It would be a vivid blue
And green
Changing every few seconds

It would be a disk player,
But it scratches the needle
And breaks every day
Only working and playing
For two hours

Maybe I’ll tell my secret
Maybe I wont
Only time
Can tell.