Sonnet 9

3/5/11

I’ve tried, you know I have, to choke it. But

He’s like an illness void of cure—something

That’s got into my blood; he can’t be shut

Away, or out, once he’s got in. A string

Of options have been tried, to no avail—

I’ve tarried time, I’ve broken ties, (and more

Than once), I’ve made myself so sick and pale

With thinking, clinging to the thoughts of poor

Conduct and my misuse. But it’s no use!

I am a silly, stupid, slave who loves

To be mistreated, shamed, and quite abused.

It can’t be helped, when push then comes to shove.

I love that man—I know it isn’t just.

Or else, perhaps, I’m simply slave to lust.