Stolen
Lips pressed to bare skin,
it melts at a small, daring touch,
because from that heat
it must want too much.
Haze in eyes and mist from mouth
captured on my tongue in vapors.
Drifting overhead and wraps
a presence like yourself, an enigma.
Secrets whispered in an ear
but told to everyone, yet promised-
you swore no one would hear.
Two strong fingers clasped my chin,
afraid the person beneath pulls away.
Watching the shake in my thin shoulders,
watching feigned stoicism at its best,
watching forever, watching me.
A quiet lullaby spurred for love,
and murmurs cut an open wound.
Sting, not too much, for I look
always up above for that love.
This man supplies my starving soul.
He did so, and what was given
out of pity, out of lust, always taken;
our minds were the ones driven.
Licked my wounds with sad smiles
and sang to me the most somber tunes.
If it were right I once wished for silence
so I could love without any goodbyes.
Since that is not reality I sit upon a stone
carved in bitter lies and broken compromise
than that of superficial cadence.
For now my only wish is calm patience.
Bestowed to me was nothing but tragedy.
Arranged and rearranged are belongings.
Fine! my words shot. I don’t wish the life
having anything to do with you.
I take my dignity, chin held high,
and I’ll walk through those doors.
Paused. With every final goodbye
Fingers pull at my hand, so apologetic.
I submit once again; I always disappoint.
