The Love Thief

Today’s poem is part of my exploration of masks. Like the poems before, it has to do with not being able to believe what you see. Not all who wear masks do so to be duplicitous, sometimes it’s just a matter of trying satisfy one’s goal. Whatever that goal may happen to be. Still, the wearing of masks makes it difficult, sometimes, to know exactly what you’re dealing with until it’s too late and the damage has been done. The thing to remember is that in every difficult situation, there is a lesson to be learned. It’s important to learn the lesson and move on.

He stole my love, took
it in broad daylight, knowing
I’d give in to loving him
without putting up much of a
fight. Loving is supposed to be
easy. I had no way of knowing
he would only love me undercover
and under the covers, always
remaining out of sight but
not out of mind. I craved loving
him and fell into it easily.
He only wanted to peddle his
wares a wholesale love affair,
some faux love that wouldn’t
look real to one trained in
recognizing love that’s unreal.
He did all his dealing – love is
kind of like a drug, isn’t it – like
any other thief. Quick in, quick out
smash and grab, then stay out
of sight. He chose to hoard all of
my love and kept his locked away
behind arm length excuses no warm
smile could penetrate. He was like
a squirrel storing love for Spring.
Squirrels never know they might be
dead by Spring. And by Spring,
my love for him would be dead too.
Killed by a thief who evolved
into a murderer.

Peace & Love,



About Rosalind Guy

I'm broken & my soul is weary/ my weary soul rebels, fights/ anything & anyone who tries to heal me/I beat my head against a wall of memories/ trying hard to break free from the chain of memories/ I can only be free by saying it so/ i weave a necklace from words and finally/ I find freedom/ free free free. As you can see, words are powerful to me. As Maya Angelou said, words are wallpaper of the soul. I have lots of nightmarish memories that threaten to break me, but I learned a long time ago about the power of words. They can be used to heal and destroy anything that threatens to destroy the person. Words coupled with love have the power to save and heal. I am author of three books: Skinny Dipping in the Pool of Womanhood, Tattered Butterfly Wings, and Blues of a Love Junkie. I am a high school English teacher. I am a former reporter. I am a mother. I am a woman. I am a fierce advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves, those who's voices go unheard. Check out my Amazon author page at the following link:
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