Betrayal! It's what you have done to me,
was our life together so very drab?
As we lay as one, did you lie with her
denying us our due euphoria?
Should I accept your infidelities,
be humiliated by constant lies?
The joy of my heart I gave so freely
and you killed it, as you murdered my trust.
After weeping, but before new laughter,
I had thought I would carry stigmata.
Recurring agonies where bitten nails
pierced clenched palms. In time I shall recover.
Deceit is your daughter, your son the lie.
My own happiness will not be denied.
A sonnet with an acrostic element.
Poem & picture by stuartcturnbull