Secrets are poison

This hide has weathered much,

but still warms under tender touch.

Don’t spit no more your poison my way.

These lips may appear silent,

but they ain’t afraid to say what needs saying, violent.

Fixed, not forgotten.

Listen and speak, don’t hide.

Secrets are poison, and what I say with my body, is for me to decide.
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About dustforthedancers

Poet, creative, cultural and community seeder, feeder, maybe one day I'll be a leader. Of my own path at least...
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Secrets are poison

  1. desertfeltfish says:

    word baby word, new shit

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