What's the secret those lips are holding. I wanna know
Your poker face pout no longer works on me. I wanna know
I hear the whispers run to and fro eager ears. I wanna know
When the sacred story halts and lingers by me. Now I know
I'm the sucker who is shown no mercy by the secret . Now I know
Lights which before illuminated your face, cast shadows. Now I know
The little white lie grew and grew until it enveloped me. I wish I didn't know
YOU ARE READING
Leave Something To The Imagination
PoetryI have all of these poems stashed away in my journal, and I think it's about time I share them. They aren't perfect, they may not make complete sense but they're a piece of me that I'd never change.
