Zitat von lovewithdiamonds am 18 Februar, 2006, 0904 Uhr

It burns.
Not the raw wounds on my hands, but the mistake. Heavy on my soul.
I never meant to betray your trust,
I was insecure and self absorbed.
I had told my self I did not crave your love,
that I did not desire your touch
that I was not addicted to savouring the pleasures of your flesh.

It burns.
Not the raw wounds on my hands, but the shame. Of being caught in a lie.
It affected me more than I had ever
dreamed was possible
I was childish and indignant
All wounded pride and the offended martyr
While it was you I’d crucified,
You I’d publicly shamed.
How could I be crying when you were the victim, not I?
If you’d been any other I could have lied to justify further lies
Worn my tattered robes of false honour and virtue
But that rang hollow with you.
I feared my emotions for you, their depth unfathomable
I feared diving in to test them, for
fear of drowning.

It burns.
Not the almost healed scars on my hands, but the intensity in your
Words. I am
Humbled and grateful all at once,
by your love and forgiveness

And it burns.
Fiercely in my heart.