the juxtaposition of past confusion
and present misery
I lay entirely upon your shoulders
your words creep from trembling lips that lie
and dare me to defy their falsely vatic nature
you, the autodidactic of deceit
eat your vana gloria, and may you choke
cry out with the jubilance of your impending victory
it is my intention to inveigh against this lie
to rail out at the powers that no longer be
and bring your feather and matches world down
burn it to the ground
for now, you take long trips and buy dishes
but soon, mon Bete Noire,
the world will sniff out your dolor from the far corners
your defeat shall be so utterly complete
that the angels and demons alike
will surely sing of the justice that has been dealt
and as the articulate binding of my words
brings me somewhat to the edge of internal combustion
I cannot help but to see the vitriolic undertone
in the love you profess so casually, so domestically
the defenestration of truth and honesty
the slope of your nose was incredible as you turned it up at me,
supercilious even at the end when you supposed my defeat
with my secretive eyes and smile I let you believe
that he believed in what it was you two had once began
but it is inveterate, my need to survive and not be survived
sotto voce, it will creep up and bear my name
the blow with which I banish you always
from the light he holds, the light you've tainted
your destruction is necessary, you understand
the abattoir of my heart shall devour you
and thus become whole again.