you don’t get it
do you
well let me explain it to you
slowly
in my best
non-regional diction
so you no longer feel the need
to darken my door
the narrow purview you cling to
spawned by your self-absorption
is my favorite of your
many insidious faults
you are nothing
more to me
than the cat-of-nine-tails
with which
i
flagellate
myself
there is nothing
a good lashing
won’t cure
during the black plague
the discipline was used
as a means
of preventing oneself
from becoming infected
the devout believed
the plague
was a punishment
from god
and that punishing oneself
would prevent the need
for god to infect you
faulty logic indeed
but it’s damned funny
the lengths a human will go to
to hold onto hope
as a lack of hope
is death
i do it
to remind myself
to never accept abuse as love
as
your only exceptional quality
is that
you are the greatest sickness
i have ever seen
black as midnight
black as pitch
blacker than the heart
of the darkest witch
you
are the place
where love dies