Sunday, November 19, 2017

The Five Stages of Grief (Anger)


If I could take back every kiss,

 touch and embrace I would.

If I could I would package them up,

send them far, far way.

Maybe it would be better to burn them up,

every memory of you and me in flames,

flush the ashes down the toilet,

send them to the sewer from whence you came.

If only I could forget every word that ever came

out of your mouth, the lies, the shit, the promises,

sweet nothings turned sour like milk.



Damn you and every moment we spent together,

you ugly, lying, gutless bastard.

I won’t miss any of it. I won’t miss you.

I never loved you, in fact I hate you.

I hate you!



Who do you think you are

walking out on me?

How dare you leave after you said

you loved me.

How could you look me in the eyes and lie? 

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