Confessions of a Woman Scorned
© Michelle George 2011
They didn’t have to tell me,
I got no midnight call,
You didn’t call out for her in your sleep,
You never spoke to me at all.
It was the tender way you touched her,
The soft light within your gaze,
It was the way every conversation was a secret,
It was the caress you made her name,
The promise ever present in your eyes, your voice, your touch,
It was that every conversation was a secret, and every meeting more than such.
It was the accusation in her eyes whenever our eyes met,
The challenge in her there that I tried hard to forget,
I had betrayed her soo deeply by being here first,
Trapped in the prison of your loving thirst,
Hoping wishing praying that I could be her,
So you could look at, touch speak to me,
If your warmth I could stir,
I took that shame to heart you know?
Hid it deep within my pain,
As your loving gaze for me swiftly turned to disdain,
I started to examine where it was that I went wrong,
She didn’t have to tell me,
I knew it all along,
I knew you needed only a soft place to land
Someone to tell your secrets,
Someone to hold your hand,
I made you bed of feathers and with my body kept it warm.
I would have died if only to keep you safe from harm.
I was the way her eyes seem to find you when she recited words of love
And the rueful smile she was rewarded by the man I loved
And as my hands are washed with crimson
She stares blankly into space
Your vacant stare beside her in you last lovers embrace
I will go willingly into darkness
For I have now confessed my sin
This could have all been avoided if you only let me in.