I Promised You a Hate Poem

Final Letter to Maria
You think you're so fucking slick
with your adoring looks,
& your sly touches,
all the while pretending
you don't care.

You want to confuse me,
as if you hadn't hurt me enough,
and you hadn't let me fall
a million miles,
once you cut me from your web.

And I hit hard—
you know I hit hard—
shattered to a million pieces,
& now that I'm almost whole,
you want to try and rip me apart,
again?

Well, it's not going to work
because I'm being held together
by a force you could never understand—
more complex than your jealousy,
stronger than the smell of your cunt.

So you can have the money
you think you deserve—
I've met whores who deserve
more than you—& you can have
my advice in times of utter despair—
funny, you never wanted it
when I first offered—
but I won't let you have my heart,
again.

Not so you can crush it
between your palms, 
again,
& smear it on the walls, 
again,
like some gory graffiti
for all to see
...besides, it's no longer mine
to give.

Embers
I sometimes find myself
combing through the ashes
of what we once had
digging, hoping to find something
salvageable amongst all the dead
embers.

I search deep and long, longing
too long, because once I find hope
I uncover burning, breathing coals,
blue-hot to the touch,
remnants of you
burning me, watching me
blister & boil
and catch
until I almost become
one of you,
one with you,
or whatever the fuck happens
when two flames
meet.

I know one day I'll accept that there is nothing but pain within the ashes.

Clean Rinse
I wash my hands,
I wash my hands of you
and everything about you,
the little burdens you try to pass off.

I wash my hands,
I wash my hands of you,
scrub beneath the nails—
if only I could pluck them off
to be sure the residue,
the rest of you,
was rinsed deep clean.

I wash my hands of you,
scrub them to the bone,
and even then I scrub & scrub & scrub
until the bright white light of reflection
blinds me!


Is this all the brightness you could give?