The Weak Link

                                       Part I

There is a dank, and terrible place-

(That used to be my heart).

Hollow, and without (even) a

sliver…of light, it’s 

abandonment screams (to my 

body), without effort. 

In darkness-its cold. 

The moisture it holds, (is 

uncomfortable), and 

I feel something, 


(It’s resident horror-show 

secrets; abundant), are as 

numerous as the words, 

I will never hold back.






At her absolute worst, she is
a vituperative hydra-
each tongue lashing hate,
hate, hate, anger. Anger, via silence. The deepest sadness, expressed by inconsolable sobbing,
misdirected abuse and
self deprecating hostility.
So much hate, it breaches the parameters of revenge, and the
cold hard truth is nowhere in sight.
It’s tough love (without the love),
and in her shining moments-
she is me.

She is my friend, my sister, and
my lover. But mostly,
she is the knife in my back,
each time I walk away.

(I guess the hardest part, is that
I keep falling, for her
loving façade).

What a fuckin cunt.