This is my poem for you.
You left me.
I loved you.
I loved you as the wind blows in the trees and as a duck floats on a pond. Our love was real. Our love was true. Our love was like a cat that had ample milk to drink in a bowl of purity.
Then there was her.
She with her scowling eyes and uncombed, shampoo commercial hair. She was as deceptive as Hannah Montana. She had seduced your head, and she had seduced your heart, and she had seduced your body and everything else that used to belong to me. She even seduced your creepy pet rabbit that has alopecia.
Her eyes were blacker than the blackest area of the Black Forest. Her tongue as dirty as…I'm running out of similes, but it was really, really dirty. Maybe like a dumpster with medical waste in it…and a homeless man.
Why did you leave me for that bleach blonde harlot who ripped out my soul to nail on a wall of your house under a sign that says, "Home Sweet Home," and above one that says, "It's a flip-flip kinda day!"?
I am nothing. I am bleeding. Red blood seeps though my fingers and toes in a bloody resentful bloodbath.
I lie here dying. I can't speak. Your love has smothered me like a tired mother with a pillow. I ache no more. I see no more. Darkness falls in the unfair curfew of my happiness.
I hope you're happy with the life you've chosen ‘cause I plan on getting a lot weirder.
Fin.