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