This Poem was Submitted By: Patricia Gibson-Williams On Date: 2003-04-22 22:45:21 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Lies

If you wanna know the truth, I lied to her. It’s not like she shouldn’t have known better. After all I didn’t give her a phone number, just a beeper. Hell, I met her in a club for christ’s sake! Drinking, dancing; what’s a women like that expect? Forever -  not in this lifetime. Told her I was recently divorced, “live with my sister” She don’t like me giving out her number. What kind of women buys that load of crap? So the next weekend we “make love” I’ve got a key to a place, ya know. Man… I twisted that girl all to pieces. Truth is, she kind of twisted me too. Look it’s not like the wife cares or anything. And the woman… …She kept comin’ back for more. I called her everyday. Both of us were addicted - so what. Told her she was the only one.  - Friend told her I was married, Ha, she was foolish enough to defend me. Couldn’t even call me at home -- but she defends me. How naive is that? Told her I was in love with her, but the damn girl wouldn’t say it back. Said she didn’t believe in love. But she did anything I asked; “and trust me I asked.” “Why wouldn’t she say it back?” I go home to the wife… sleep in my separate room. Wonder why the hell we stay married. Oh yeah… she won’t give me a reason to leave. Doesn’t want sex, but told me to get it elsewhere. How do you leave a woman like that? I call the girl again and make plans to meet. At least I’m getting some regular like. No more fumbles in the dark with women I’ll never see again. And the girl she’s special. I’m laying there holding her, (funny I’ve never done that before) and I tell her again that I love her. She looks at me with those dark eyes and tells me “not” too. Talks about being broken, and unable to love. Don’t know why I wanna here those words anyhow, it’s not like I really care. It’d just give me more power over her to have them. What the hell do I need love for any way? I got wife at home, that should be enough. “Yeah right some wife.” So I gather her closer and kiss her. “Why can’t you love me?” She hugs me tightly, whispering, Don’t cry… please; stop crying.

Copyright © April 2003 Patricia Gibson-Williams

Additional Notes:
My dear sweet Joe says this isn’t a poem; it’s a story. Ah well, it’s a new style for me, so I don’t know maybe I’m confused. What do you think? I also want to know what this poem made you feel and where you thought I was trying to go with it. I’m very interested in discovering if I accomplished what I set out to. Thank you. Oh and a title… couldn’t decide on one.


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