Ich Mag Du Nicht

Especially now
Now that I’ve wasted
So much time and care
In getting to know
That you

That you that’s all surface
Pitted chrome
Giving way to rock-salt-rusted frame

That you underneath
That perfectly spackled on smile

That you that has no problem
Taking endlessly from my well of kindness

That you ashamed to be seen in public
With my freakishly deformed
Ugly, fluid, lumbering, bulgy, gangly

The thing is
My ugly may be on the surface
But yours is permanently embedded
In the very marrow of your bones

Your ugly is in your actions

Your ugly is in the way
You cut through all the people in your path
Collecting heads and hearts in equal measure
With that charmer of a mug
You take an extra hour in the morning
To artfully shellac on and accessorize

Not to break form
Or get personal

But how dare you
Look me in the fucking eye
And call me friend

You fucking judgemental, shallow
Empty-headed, empty-hearted
Empty-spirited drain

I wish you’d had the class
To keep me off your contacts list

So, go fuck yourself
With the barbed-wire-wrapped dildo
You rode in on


About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook: facebook.com/MolyTov
This entry was posted in Poetry, Written and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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