A Valentines Day Love Poem

A Poem about Love and Letting Go There are moments when I just want to scream, “Please don’t love her.” Please don’t give away what I wanted so badly to someone else. Please don’t tenderly hold her hand in a darkened theatre waiting for the show to start while whispering sweetness into her ear. I beg of you, don’t give to her the kindness and attention I spend my whole life craving and hoping for.

  I want to scream and cry and throw things at you. I want to throw myself down on the ground and howl in pain. I want to cry and cry and cry until all of my tears are dry. I want to rip my own heart out of my chest because the pain of it breaking hurts worse than anything I have ever felt. I want to stab my own eyes out so they will never witness love in your eyes directed at her, or again witness the smugness on your face when you describe the joy she gives you. I want to drive a stake into my own brain so that I will quit thinking of you making love to her. Clumsy disconnected limbs grunting and sweaty with the stench of over full ashtrays and booze. Her skinny, flabby corpse of a body, clawing for purchase on top of you, yellow stained sheets, and the smell of betrayal wafting through the dank, moist trailer hovel that is her lair.

I want to burn her house down, with her in it. I want ram her car with my car. I want to drag her worthless skinny putrid ass out into the middle of the road and give her a beat down for daring to put her filthy, cigarette stained claws on MY MAN! I want to rip her skanky bleached blond hair out by the roots with clumps of skin attached. I want to jerk her face very close to mine, and I will whisper quietly to her. “if you ever so much as glance at my man, if you ever so much as send him a dirty little text, I will make you wish you had never been born.” I have scrapped worthier things than you off the underside of toilet seats.

Yes bitch, you better get a Restraining Order. You better get a helmet and a fire extinguisher. Skinny bitch, you have never met the likes of me. I will fuck you up and run you down. I will make you look over your shoulder and sleep with the lights on. Yes bitch, you better keep an eye out and what you love close, because when you least expect it I am coming for you and what you love.

  Do you love this MAN? He is not mine to have or hold, he is free to choose which hole he climbs into and what depth of degradation he needs to redeem himself. Don’t forget that you are just the bottom of his despair. The fetid stench of his self-loathing, reflected back to you, painted into a smile. I guess that is enough, for you, gathering up the scraps of someone else’s life. Ferret like features pinched in greedy need for what you will never really hold close.

  I am over my temper now, these words typed out with the striking force of bullets, have calmed me now. My fingertips sting as my breathing slows. The green light now fading from my periphery vision, I know what it feels like, rage so deep you want to kill and set things on fire. Lucky for you, I have this ability to write this stuff down instead of coming over there where you live. The truth is I feel sorry for you.
  I won’t harm you, but he will.