Disguised of the Scarlet Letter
-penned by Diana Bien-Aime
The simplest form of gratitude could’ve been found in his thank you
But he chose to wear ARROGANCE on his chest
PRIDE in his stride
And EGO across his forehead with bright blinking signs
Reading INSECURITY approaching
But his hello found rest in my bosom.
I was gone somewhere between when he said I love you and I must
go home.
Never giving thought to the pain that would be caused by self inflicting
denial of making the wrong choice.
I heard a voice saying there is a path to be chosen
But I stood still
Frozen by his sheath of protection we call confidence
Most pronounced in our high profile men
They connect with something within
Maybe the inextricable valve of being born in sin
It was over before it started
Desires became neurotic and I formulated an ism; narcissism-
COMPLETE INDULGENCE IN SELF
I became a female version of his pact to remain calm on the
outside, but be a bubbling furnace of DISCOMFORT in the mind.
I loved to watch him flex his muscles
I loved to watch him make the hustle in a three-piece suit
Asking for a call and response to who he was not
He could never be the Messiah
He would never lift me higher than his frame could handle
He was damaged goods, and I could never understand why his
pleasantries were always based on CUNNING DECEIT
There were signs in his shuffle, but I, a dove, looking for a resting
place and someone to love grasped onto his inadequacies and he
became me…..I became it.
The centralized hurt that I despised could be found in the LUST
OF THE FLESH.I was a ginny pig who willfully signed off my right to live and let
love subside.
I was not his wife
Not his friend
Not his server
But a concubine
To control the bouts of this reality, my coping mechanism was to
DENY it existed.
Speaking to myself, saying you got me twisted.
Intertwined with wine, my thoughts became nauseous
I placed my head in between my legs to gain momentum
He took back every inch I gained with the simple words; I’m sorry.
I found myself yet in a bind to release cold-hearted intent from my
chest.
That’s when I noticed I was wearing the sign ADULTERY across
my breasts.
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