Dirty Little Secrets
Date: January 31,2012
He is a decade long struggle with weakness
A chink in the armor, a stain on my soul
He carved out a hollow, in places sworn to secrecy
And filled it with aching desires
He came whispering into my dreams, unexpected, unexplained
Invading…where he ought not be
He barged in, weapons ready…perfecting his plan
Chip, chip, chipping away, at the naked innocence of my regard
He is my disease, a cruel cold sickness…a private shame
The incurable scourge, aimed like a heat seeking missile
He is a poisonous arrow, bearing down
Holding me under, watching me drown
Slathering on honey, he’s sweeter than sugar
Coloring the taste to disguise the waste
Of the drug that he’s pushing
He’s a shot of confusion, leading me astray
Till I’m lost in the dark…can’t find my way
Like a rusty old needle, or dirty crack pipe
He’s a demented addiction sucking away at my life
He’s a knife to my flesh, a blade at my wrist
A candy coated affliction that I’ve failed to resist
He whispers of promises that he’ll never keep
Mixed with slurs of perversion, cutting me deep
He’s so damned clever, he plays it both ways
Assaulting my nights and tormenting my days
He slips in the folds, smoother than silk
Breathing like spiders spinning webs of deceit
I lay down inside his cool calculations
Feeding the fires of my own deprivation
I drank from the river, spiked with disgrace
Languished inside hell’s hiding place
Giving my faith to a man with no heart
Denying his nature…to keep from falling apart
Now I whisper at night, to cast out the ghosts
Of too many memories, and too much hurt
I keep begging myself to look toward the light
Cause the darkness around me…is not worth the fight
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Copyright © 2015 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You lament with a strong voice. The power of the feeling you describe is like a storm.