Betrayal

So this is what betrayal feels like. Always thought it would gurgle up bitter, sour tastes in the throat. But it’s tasteless.

Delayed shock…

Is the only explanation. Because I loved you. A desperate, needy love. Though I was careful not to show it.

Shame

An inordinate amount of shame. Embarrassment. Like I’m naked in public, and I’m fat. Skin marred with deep pockmarks. The crowd boos. Shame. I feel ashamed.

Self Flagellation

I never learn. Never. Never. Never. I deserve this. What goes around comes back around. For all my analysis and semi intellectual rants I still walk straight into The Trap. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I hate dumb women. I’m one of them.

Worthless

I am a used tissue. Throw me away. My body is desert. The oasis is bloody. You will die of thirst. Do you drink blood?

Irony

Only yesterday, I rode the high waves of ecstasy. I needed just one whiff of his thought to get me so fucking high. Now, I am the undead. What happens when a 50 feet fall does not kill you? Look at me.

Fear

Of the truth. Of love. That I still love you. And that I always will.

Disgust

I want to puke. The thought of you cheating on me makes me want to throw up. My insides are in knots.

Hysteria

That I dreamt of carrying your child. Our child. Me. The bitch. The heartless lunatic who is all for population control.

Helpless

Inertia. My mouth is sewn shut. I can’t speak. This non-pain will tear me apart. I foresee it happening. I’m paralysed.

Lament

My love my love my love my love my love

Why have you forsaken me?

My verses have died premature. I wanted to write so much for you.

Record

This feeling. Because I will forget. I will not cry because I have no tears. The wound will close by my will alone. Because I am the strongest there is.

But I must remember this is how I felt. Feel? Do I? Not one drop of tear. Not one drop. I used to cry buckets, at the drop of a hat.

Pity me. For I hate pity.

Surprise

It was true love. Great love. Love really doesn’t matter, does it? I thought love could move mountains. I was wrong. Only I loved.

I don’t understand you. That hurts. Or maybe what hurts is that I do understand you. I see you for what you truly are. My wishful thinking has not made you a King. The sceptre and crown are to be deserved.

I am Queen. I am too good for you.

Begone, you bastard.