though there be light do not notice me.
For I cannot live in the place you have kept me,
in the dark, under locks of your hidden discrepancies.
Like a moth to your flame I burn constantly
Tears run down as if long awaiting prisoners finally set free,
sentenced by guilt emancipated by greed
for I wanted you for myself and only for me.
I write in secret for the truth is louder to speak,
and now I am who I swore I would never be.
She completes your story until she must leave
and I lay the interval inbetween your sheets.
And when she returns then so shall we,
to the dark, under locks of your hidden discrepancies.
So to the next who hears the pulse on my sleeve,
I beg, I beg, I plead to thee
though it be loud do not notice me.