The Moth Diaries, Poetry
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Poem 62- She Has Me By A String
she has me by a string
pulls it tight, yanks it tight.
i feel the teatherd ropes of it each night
as i lay sofly in bed, i stare at the ceiling
wishing it would reveal its hidden secrets.
i feel that this cold plato of white plaster
knows what goes on in her head, knows what i need to do.
understands every motive and every silable utterd,
but it never lets on, stands motionles above me each night.
it is like some western guard,standing over a police scene.
they know what has gone on, but when the victim comes
forward, they are ushured back with a wave of the hand,
told that it is not for them to know,
that the secrets will remain behind locked doors.
locked walls of plaster.
and still she holds me to that string,
i know i shouldnt got back again and again.
but love, lust and longing draw me to her every time she
beckons with that index finger, white tipped finger nails
and strawberry lips, she whispers my name.
i cant resist, i cant hold back, i need her
she gives me my life.
and so i stare at that plaster ceiling,
wishing it would release me from her cycle.
© Lucy Griffin June05