It's very strange -
That a man of words
doesn't know the right ones now...
Standing before you trembling -
praying the right words will come
to rescue me and untie my tongue...
So that I might tell you
what needs to be told,
Praying to not break your heart
or shatter my own.
But what shall I say?
How can I tell you?
The hero of me wants to break the news,
so you are not the last to know...
How gallant!
While the coward in me hopes
that you already know what I should say
and finish my sentences to spare me...
How shameful!
But how do I start?
How can I tell you?
That my lips have tasted the sweetness
of another lover's lips,
How my heart is unrepentant
of the misbegotten moon
which illuminates my heart now...
How can I ever tell you...
That it was nothing you did or didn't do?
That this has nothing to do with you?
How can I ever tell you?
The answer is that I can never tell you.
I have prayed my prayers in vain.
So we go on together, you and I,
my uncertainty a dark secret
as I extinguish the light in my heart...
(Did I deceive you?
Or am I now deceiving my own heart?)
While someone else cries in your place.
©2003 poetheart