Sad Empty Pathetic Lives

One from my private vault, and from two years ago (April 2017). Completely raw and untouched for April Poetry Month.

sad empty pathetic lives… what reruns they are

he’ll never have my love or respect again. he’ll never have my forgiveness and he’s never going to be worthy of my friendship.
but now, to get up and move again… i need to mend.

sometime in the years end
i need to mend
sometime in the years end
i’ll need a friend

you said you would never hurt me again
a weight off my shoulders
yet seven feet in…

sometime in the years end
i need to mend
sometime in the years end
i’ll cry again

behind those large blue eyes
a monster lurks
never a day that ends-
always at work

he said he would never hurt me again
he said he would never

i hate you
and no amount of time
will ever change that

you know what you are,
you know what you did
how would you think
i’d not wish you dead
how did you think
i’d not wish you dead

i need silence inside my head
but there’s violence inside your bed
how did you think i’d not wish you dead

sad empty pathetic lives… what monsters they are

lurking and lusting and
draining souls
i will never relinquish control
i was head deep in
before i could swim
i’m learning how to live again
i’m learning how to live

oh for a brief moment you made me believe
in a fairytale

(but you’re really a monster from hell, tell tell)

oh ye sloth
you were treated like a king
even out of cloth
and lying on your knee

one or two or a thousand
how many hearts now bleed?

i didn’t want to be her, i plead
but you’re still not listening
you have no heart, you see

oh, and good luck on the baby

what hurts most of all, i believed you
and the thing that hurts most is, you knew all along
you knew

this is cruel deception
you are evil incarnate
the dead, risen again
he has no soul

(might as well call me a widow, i’m mourning my soul
the death of my heart)

nocturnal mourning

every morning

i should have seen
all the warnings

hating you is the only way to get through, it’s the only way i will survive. but is it wrong to hate a monster?

© Delia Ross. 2019

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