i am a secret woman
he places his life in my hands
or so i believe
so i beg to believe
whilest i fall
to sleep
upon a pillow
sodden

but i keep secrets
that are not
or is the secret
my self?
am i that secret sin
you keep
i keep
hidden

and to what avail?
the promises you make
me make
are hollow in truth
when they are known
she told me
when all your secrets
are bespaken without words

or am i the shame you hide
from prying ears
hungry perhaps for more than words
or perhaps the hunger is yours
for the girl in your kitchen
and her perfect legs
you told me weren't so perfect
you promised

i am a secret woman
a second woman
a second choice
i am wet with fear of telling her
but i am hollowed out
with bile for not
and she reassures me
though her words have broken me

as you have
as yours do

o the secret places
upon your sheets
and skin
where you tell me
promise me
and i believe
and am denied
safe refuge

bring me into your bed again
a secret second choice woman
with so much to give to loose
but for fear
and emptiness
and knowledge of secrets
within secrets
within secrets

within you
within me



[link]



there is a feeling when your world begins to slide. when the edges shift and melt, and when they blur with the motion of the universe falling apart. and you breathe in... and somehow still exist. and that freezing burning empty feeling slides into your gut and takes hold, and destroys trust. and you no longer know what to believe. even when reassuring words are spoken, even when the need is fulfilled. trust is fragile. and words are like glass...