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Our Little Secret

It’s twelve o’clock midnight,
outside it’s raining.
I feel my body die,
thoughts so draining.
An image of my deceit,
so clear behind my eyes.
Justifications in my mind,
that my heart openly denies.
Decadently savouring sanity,
before it slips away.
The demise of respect
and my trust’s decay.
Our little secret,
of actions unclean,
is no longer a secret
and should never have been.

- Melissa Vowell

Our Little Secret

Melissa Vowell

Slacks Creek, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 3

Artwork Comments

  • Imogene Munday
  • Melissa Vowell
  • transmute
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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