Up the mountains

We painted the truth on rocks and threw them in a lake. 

Thinking maybe if it could wash off the paint it would wash off of us. 

We yelled at the top of our lungs and filled them with drizzling rain and laughter. 

We painted on paper and wood, getting it off our chests.

I stood on the shoreline before throwing my rock in and told the mountains how I feel. 

Trying to get it off my chest.