Queen Janine…

Mean Janine.

The hypocrisy queen.

She uses their son

as her weapon.

A gangsters has-been,

is Queen Janine.

A DNA test,

quick to threaten.

Hate…

I have begun to hate you…

The way you sit on your high horse,

thinking you’re without fault,

while everyone around you competes for the best position

to kiss your fat ass.

I have begun to hate you…

Your slobbish, and grotty habits,

that make it a full time, despicable job,

for which you practically need a team of cleaners

attached to your heels

every minute of every day and night,

merely to keep the place clean-ish.

I have begun to hate you…

The snide remarks about me to (the constant stream of) visitors,

designed to make everybody laugh,

while a tiny bit more of my self esteem

shrivels up and abandons me.

I have begun to hate you.

If you snooze you lose…

You visit me and fall asleep,

whose company is mine to keep?

Our conversation doesn’t flow.

How are we supposed to grow?

Your free time’s spent at other places,

your world is full of other faces.

I want somebodys life to share,

to fill my bed with more than air.

Your napping habits don’t amuse.

Don’t you know

if you snooze, you lose?

 

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Games…

It’s just another mind game.

It’s always different.

Always the same.

You pick a fight,

I get the blame.

You twist my words,

and freeze me out.

It hurts my pride.

It breeds self doubt.

 

This love isn’t fair.

You hold every card.

Please show that you care…

Stop treating me hard.

 

 

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Hatred…

A seething dislike

causes emotions to overflow.

The desire to hurt

replaces reason.

Hands start shaking

from the intensity

of the need to scream,

wound, defeat, crush.

Red hot fury

brings blood

to the boil.

Control is lost.

The hated wins.

 

 

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Leather and lace…

He is as soft and deep

as he is hard and cold.

A complex man.

He rides at the front,

proudly leading his brothers.

The death head he wears

is a force to be reckoned with.

The world panders to his title.

His power.

His absolute power.

His absolute power corrupts…

He is hard and scary.

He is warm and cuddly.

He came to me for a reason.

And a season.

But not a lifetime.

 

 

 

 

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Two to tango…

And still, we try…

Dinner, wine, snort,

and more wine…

Apple pie and ice cream

with wine…

Awkward conversation

mingles with the accusations

in each others eyes…

Neither one willing to speak

about the real problem…

Anger.

Guilt.

Hurt.

Guilt.

Those who are without sin

may cast the first stone…

We both stand on similar ground.

We both have every reason to feel angry.

Guilty,

and hurt.

 

 

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