I read somewhere that
one should never write
in the midst of a battle field.
However,
the bullets you just shot down
my godforsaken spine
call for angry words.
I hate you.
You've become
a black widow spider,
charming in the innocent
and killing
every
last
heartbeat.
Pump thump
Pump thump
Silence.
Darling,
can you taste the bitterness
that I am drowning you
(you're drowning yourself)
in.
You always wanted the invite
to my pretty
pity
parties.
Well here it,
sunshine.
