HOME | DD

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now c'mon, this isn't as serious as
you swear it to be, beating your
chest like some pathetic sailor
writing wasted letters to a girlfriend
on her third fling in two months -
it's simply not that SERIOUS.

your ears clasp shut-tight, eyes same
and i swallow the bile rising - so DRAMATIC,
but can you be anything but? i pretend
you start to make sense and this time
i cannot hold back the laughs - the thought
of sensibility courting your unwieldy persona
is too unrealistic, so far fetched -

what is your goal? what do you hopelessly
wish to accomplish? this bores me,
your bi-polar fluctuations, your sad
hormonal changes - get a GRIP, woman!
suicide seems like a better choice than
seeing what next bad trick you'll pull out

of your hat-o-horrors - you BORE me,
sicken me - i think you get a rise off of this -

***

hear me clear, you smug bastard:
i am Moon-Child/Jezebel/the
purple-scarlet whore of Babylon.
these hands have wrought both
joy and destruction and are capable
of things you’re hopelessly unable to
comprehend and because i speak facts

you dare say i am being DRAMATIC?
leave your assumptions at the door;
this isn't playtime or a field trip -
you have offended me in the worse
way, and you sicken me by belittling

the seriousness, the severity, the
range and scope - i have given you
pleasure you thought only possible
in the most drug-laced dreams,
but i'll give you nightmares the likes
Lucifer himself would envy.

so bite back that kiss and silence
the rage boiling your blood -
i haven't even STARTED to get
angry.