March 11, 2014

My Intimate Poetry: Question.

Hello lovely readers, a couple Sundays ago I launched a five-part ramble of Shakespearean-styled prose. I haven't a clue what possessed me to lapse into the language but it produced this poem (translated back to modern English). Enjoy!

A question unanswered is a portal to the unknown. 
Ignorance is torture as I scream out to your deafness. ― Tammy-Louise Wilkins.

What is this feeling that envelopes me?
How did I become so small?
When did this vessel inside begin to deteriorate?
Why do I ache within?

Be it jealousy that devours me?
Could it be this strong?
Having become no longer a priority
Nor even an ounce of importance to you?

Am I a mere stain upon your precious shirt?
A speck of dust in need of disposition?
Does it please you to witness me squirm in agony
As you play with other women?

Will you take a moment and look at me?
See how much it hurts that you’ve switched off your affection?
Can you see how it makes me bleed?
To see where my place with you is now?

This is me.
This is my request.
Please say something,
Something that is worthy from you to me.

2014 © Tammy-Louise Wilkins
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