If only I had known
what a secret meant to you,
then the quiet of innocence
would still breath in my sighs.
The memories seem faded,
over exposed in the light,
but I can make out your face,
and pehaps even your smile.
ANd for a thousand nights
I have blamed you.
For the death of my dreams,
and the knife on my wrist.
Your lust runs thru my head.
I almost want to give you
everything that you  desired,
so as to set the little girl
you hushed, free.
SHe has not forgotten our secret,
and only until late,
it remained deep within my soul.
I have tried death,
but only to realize the beating
in my chest grow even louder.
This water isn't pure enough,
its like I can still taste you.
There is a vengeance in femininity,
to see your perspiring hands,
giving you enough to suffice,
but not to saccieate.
The pleasure is all mine,
knowing that you remember 
my  unwillingness.

4 responses total.

Eery.  Creepy.  Good as usual.
May I ask where the inspiration for this came from?

hmm, from a "secret" ? :)

the secret belonging to whom?   I'm sorry-- my curiosity is terribly 
piqued now.

is it not terribly obvious? :) lol

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