I come home
every
night, to a
cold, lonely bed.
I fucking
hate you
for dying
before I could
divorce your
Kool-Aid drunk ass.
Odi et amo.
You, always,
my Lesbia.
Nescio? Why?
Why?
I understand
naught. You. Me.
Truth, strength,
pain. Eternity.
I climb atop
the dais
receive my
award
shiny, new, EGOT.
Worthless.
I place it
with your ashes.
You’re not
my idol.
Never were,
never will be.
You were my
dessert
I was yours.
Now? A pillar
of salt,
rubbed into my wounds.
Behind the
steering
wheel of
your car, I am blind.
Still, I
avoid trains
other cars,
and concrete walls.
You can rot
in hell. Alone.
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