you love(d) me well and often
in that sick
bottomless way
you love everything
in order to lose it
you force your horses to run into the round pen
then set it on fire
just so you can write a mournful poem
about the sounds of their wailing agony
i don’t miss you
i miss how i felt when i was with you
but see
i love a good horror story
and you were a real fucking scream