Never Known Recognition

Memoirs of a poet...
Still writing
Story of my life
Softly curling fingers
Around a leaking pen
And he hovers me
Breathing his pain in my ear
My neck
Sending desire down my spine
I hear him...
But continue to spill my shame
All over the pages
As his hands find their way
Burrowed under the fabric of my shirt
The fabric of my skin...
His lips
Caress me like
Soft flower petals
Morning dew grass blades..
Warm summer rain
Still I write...
Commit his iniquities
Let him taste me...
Wrap around me
Ground me...
I hear him...
But I'm still writing....
Still searching for why he is here
His games, he plays, so wicked
And I'm the subject
His prototype
His escape through a twisted life
He exhales his life story on me
"Broken heart, wounds they bleed" on me
Deviled Decisions on me
Isolation, separation on me
Negligibly on me
Makes love to me
Shows me...
How he hurts
Holds me
Like he was never held
Kiss me
Like a mother never kissed his little cheeks
Entwines my hands with his
Like they were forever empty...
And I'm still writing.....