Image for the poem IT


I did not see It, until I was too late. That which I don't want to hear nor say out loud, It. It carries a heavy burden that weighs down on my shoulders. It is Leveled but just barely reaching a threshold that could crumble my bones beneath the weight.

I fear to even think of it, the thought of such a thing. To think of It is torture. To produce It a reason sends physical pain down my spine. To admit my guilt, my hairs stand on end. It breaks my heart into a million pieces. The It I am Truth.

A Truth, my truth, a dirty secret that came out loud, escaped my lips in your jeep. I am emotionally attached. Truth spoken. IT. IT shouldn't exist at all in the first place but yet it does and my heart aches...IT doesn't set me free, it just lead me closer to wanting you...
Written by Monkeymaham2
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