My Journey

From mind to paper and back again.

The Secret

on February 26, 2009
Red lips of poison stand
on a background of death. 
The ghostly pale skin frames
the perfect crime.

A question hides
behind closed eyes,
closed doors
for nobody to answer.

The darkness around your face
tells a story of secrecy,
a hidden path shows a journey
to who knows where.

The question waits, alone
like you, closed.
A heart full of love, hiding
secrets locked inside.

The nectar of life seeps,
from staples,
they keep the secret safe.
A solitary freckle, a solitary face.

A child hides from questions, inside
and asks ‘am I pretty?’ Without
waiting for an answer from within
you deny the compliment of truth.

The secret locked behind sealed lips.
No need to ask.
No need to wish.
You are pretty from within and without.

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