I break each piece in half
And press those shivs,
With which my heart
Was once composed,
Into an envelop.
That gruesome parcel will arrive
Without fanfare or caveat
And you on opening
Will without thought, consume.
May those brutal lozenges
Lodge in your throat
Trapping your voice
And its deceptions forever
In a breathless barricade.
–
My love is a terrible thing.
I have trained my memories
So that I no longer favor you.
I have trained my flesh,
To accommodate the cold
Of your unsolicited absence.
I have plugged the holes
In my chest with strips
Of forgotten shirts and sewn tight
The aorta that my heart,
May, in its deadness, simmer.
There will be no sudden
Fits of mercy or amnesia.
–
Hate must be tended like a fire.
I will not ebb into forgiveness
Nor drain the venom
That you have injected.
I’ll let it kill me as surely
As I kill you and only then
Will I be satisfied.
*
Some time ago we did a series of prompts for which I gave only two words and asked the participants to embody the emotion or to create an experience based on the words. I had quite a bit of fun with that prompt series and so I gave myself these two words to work with. This is completely fictional.
mindlovemisery 