My Lover...

sometimes I go back, not for the joy

but for the pain. Just because the bee

stings doesn't mean I am not drawn

to play with it. 17 years with a man,

and each day he wakes up to a different

woman. Yet, you believe you know me.

Know all about my heart and have mapped

my's wonderfully cute to be

so primitive, but the lies you tell yourself

are not my lies. I'll wait until you stumble

on your own stones. This is not my wall.

PaintedPoemCpl PaintedPoemCpl
Aug 31, 2014