Scorn
Locked away on some quasi-doctors couch
Spilling untold secrets to eager ears
Hoping for absolution
Knowing I've fallen from grace
Holding onto untold rage, jealousy of a love that isn't mine, trying to save face
Trying to be the good wife, keep up the charade of a good life
Hoping earnestly to forget and forgive
Wretched heart, easily bruised, easily broken
Yearning for closure, distance, unbidden hurts, unspoken
Compounded feelings of inadequacy, suffering unseen
Yearning for a place, brought to desolation, naked, so base, so mean
Crying a silent scream
Hiding pain from prying eyes
Lying that everything is beautiful and I'm okay
Holding out a hollow shell
At the end of the day
Poison words
Small shattered, scattered dagger tipped arrows wound the innocently
Dangerous, poised, poisonous,
Volcanic ire, fire and ice
my secret vice
Hell hath no fury like a woman deeply scorned
You had your chance
You've been fairly warned
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