Wednesday, December 30, 2009

My Turn

My turn has come
And I will bash you
And I will hate you
And I will allow myself to curse you.
For months I have been made the criminal
For months I have been accused the murderer
For months I have wallowed in my guilt
Fed myself the poison of distaste
But I'm done with it.
I'm through.
And my last of words
Good bye to you.

You walked around talking of my virtues,
Praising my name speaking of my graces
Behind a mask of love you concealed a demon
A raging beast that thirsted for my blood,
And that beast reached me
And that beast ate me, because I allowed it.
You told them how you loved me,
How you were grateful to have me
But it was charade,
You wanted to look strong
You wanted to seem to have gotten over me.

But at night, in bed,
At night when you write
The beast roars
The beast hates me
The beast asks revenge.

Here I allow mine.
My beast surfaces,
And it rips away yours' head
Spilling its blood all over the floor.

Go… by all means go
Tell them how you hate me
Tell them how I hurt you
Betray my trust
Send them my letters
To uncover my vices
To emphasize the fairytale you've created
Where nothing exists but extremes,
You are the Good,
And I am Evil.

Deceive them and deny the wrongs you would not admit
And let them hate me,
And let them boil in anger
And let them show they care.

I write with blood.
I write with tears.
My eyes and heart can bear it no more.
And so I detach.
Hoping one day you will wake up from your illusion
Built in a castle in fairyland,
Mr. Green…
The grass is always greener on the other side…

1 comment:

  1. Is it just me or is this poem homoerotica/torture sex? you have got some dirty thoughts there Mr.

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