Friday, September 9, 2011

Secrets

This impossible yearning to spill
this overwhelming desire to tell
what secrets I bear
all of them
all of me
all for you.

When we talk, all that I speak
is but a grain of the truth, which I hide.
All the while what turmoil you suffer me
they sublimate into non-existence.
For the glimmerings in my eyes
are fires you set within me.

I can never be frank, not
when you detest the idea of us sharing
ourselves. What thoughts you divulge to me
are those you feel unworthy of secrecy.
Obsessed with solitariness only as you can be.

You think me transparent
and as long as this thin veil
holds itself between us,
I can keep staging this private play.
All the better for you,
all the safer for me.

_________________________________________________________________

Note: I'm good at this. I'm good at being a suffering fuck. 
This self-concocted madness I posion myself with day in day out.

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