Stealing
It's not love,
But I'm good at pretending.
Only stealing a bit, still the guilt
Would consume me if I could feel, so
Grateful I'm only alive for tonight,
He's mine for tonight.
Every one is a liar, no matter how
Nice they seem,
She need never know, and
So what if she does?
Would hate myself but
This isn't me, and
I need it more than anyone could.
Hours later, he's got his, this is the part,
Here comes my rush, only lasts the night but
Right now, I'm being held.
I'm warm.
I'm safe.
I am alive.
Blissfully shut out logical thought and leave
The feeling I am loved.
Morning. I am numb once more, and
On my own. He is gone.
I don't feel a thing.
'Til next time I need my fix,
No shame will stop me, I'll keep
Stealing love from whoever is
Willing to lie this week.
Fact is, when nobody will give,
Beggars have to steal to live.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment