Tag: grief

A sample from Book 9

 'Secret' No More!
  
 the cat's out the bag
  
 on the surface‒ 
I no longer scratch
 ‒don't want to sound
like a hag
 not even a nag
 but I'm done
playing this little game
of tag
  
 I no longer want
the jab‒ 
that sneaky, sly syntax
 keeping me in a corner
my existence entrapped
 ‒secrets over nightcaps
  
 for so long
at it
I merely laughed
 playing along‒
 this hidden
out-of-sight craft
  
 for so long
I fell into its path
 to feel barely half
of a lover's swag
  
 not any more
do these eyes sag
 I now see
the repeated red flags
  
 here they are‒ 
if you want to keep track
 here they are‒ 
if your eyes
 are stuck in lack:
  
 away from public view‒
 begins
the slow, gentle snatch
  
 text this, text that 

 a hi here
a hey there
even the wyd flair
  
 then the ignore‒ 
playing-with-the-mind anthrax's
 added-on little snap
  
 maybe a phone call or two‒
 avoiding a bit of snag
  
 (the now understood common trap)
  
 oh! how texting does that
  
 ‒just a tiny dab
 the get-what-they-want hatch
  
 turning texting to sexting
in a flash
  
 then sit back...relax
as she falls in the trap
 her mind...now attacked
with a little zap‒
 man-ego-driven
mind-boggling witchcraft
 sealed and wrapped‒ 
one-sided—playing-out wrath
  
 sexting‒ 
the perfect-controlling telegraph
  
 then comes
the moving-on slow raft
 to get that big splash
 ‒adding to their stash
 images behind
a monitored glass
  
 a little skin
in flash
with some sexy sass
  
 the building in pizzazz
 wanting more
of that flabbergast
  
 building, building
téte-a-téte
  
 then veiled in a masque‒ 
when questions invade
 the on-and-off going chitchat‒
  
 a quickened spat
back to the ignoring splat‒
 ego...alive and well
in combat
  
 'til comes that final blast
 flesh to unmask
an act in diplomat
 making her feel all that‒
 the sexy little kitty cat
  
 ‒the play in chat
 becomes
an in-the-flesh transact
  
 good or bad‒ 
putting her in abstract
 continued words on a pad‒
 her mind to distract
rather hijacked
 from their away-from-her
reality fact‒
  
 she's not the only lass‒
 their on-going sexting hack
 blatant ways in acrobat‒
 that and this
this and that
  
 'til her avoided questions
forces a react‒
  
 why not spend time with me
 why the constant disappearing act
  
 she innocently asks
 wanting beyond
the sexual wrap‒
 wanting out of secret's
hidden tap
  
 the continued avoiding lap
 puts her mind
in wondering's rasp
  
 all-stop...hold
goes the lit glass‒
 with no returned téte-a-téte
 or to-the-door dash
or a together attach
 nor explanations to patch
or synchronizing photographs
 not even a social-media match
  
 her mind opens up‒ 
I've seen all that
 recognizing perfectly
the plotted graph
  
 experience, experience
the exact-patterned zigzag
 she's once again caught
knowings in fact‒
  
 their intentions
 won't go
any further than that
  
 for her unanswered questions
suspicions‒
 her experiences in reasoning
reality's opened-up rap‒
  
 she's just one of many cats
 in their secret's rattrap
  
 ‒with all these red flags
no need for a polygraph
 I don't even need an ax
or a wiretap
 not even some mindless booby-trap
  
 just a sentence or two‒
 seeing through the claptrap
 then sit back
watch the unwrap‒
  
 innocence offers a laugh
  
 let's fix this hash
 to you...I want to holdfast
 let's have a blast
 out in the open‒ 
'let's make our splash
  
 guilt opens up the wrath
  
 a shutting-down fast
placing-blame lash
 social-media delete
the final smash‒
 the secret
given the shaft
  
 no longer do I fly half-mast
 no longer am I the secret
in stash
  
 yes, the red flags
seen in perfect format
  
 I'm no spoiled brat
 not even
lost in over-react
  
 this kitty cat
just knows where it's at
  
 I'm more than just a paragraph‒
 a secret in scraps
  
 I'm all or nothing
an out-in-the-open en masse
willing to adapt
 with another walking
the same path