Tracing the memories with my hands, our past so rough sometimes it strains my fingers hard to grasp it. Pain lancing through my knuckles making them bleed with the sweet pain of remorse. The cause of it all unclear in a jumbled mess of emotions. I keep caressing them through the agony willing it to uncurl again, weeping at the thought of losing it all over. Praying these knots come undone for the cause is becoming completely clear, searching I continue to force the wench from the throngs of history. Trades are tempted but the history of passion can not compare to the lust unbidden. I keep tracing the memories with my hands, bidding it to unfurl as the principle becomes cursed. I can’t throw it away, even though the fever is unbearable. I continue to shake the contortion causing it to tamper the love not unbidden from a professional scrutiny. Never can I unloose that connection from my monogamist my soulmate. So for now, through the torment, I continue to stroke the splices of history zealous it to tame so my gusto may once more be whole.
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Transgressions Of A Troubled Soul
PoetryThis is a small collection of short tragic and dark poems. Most were written due to my failed marriage, but seeing it written out before me helped me to better understand my pain. Writing it out also helped keep me from acting upon my dark feelings...
