the cataclysmic storm approaches Florida’s shores,
swift as the cottonmouth scurrying through the Everglades,
with lightning striking down upon us heathens;
thunderous roars mask the screams of death
as mother nature invokes martial law,
punishing us for despicable treasonous acts
warranting death by earth’s firing squad.
shiiiiiiit, i ain’t scared; i’ll still frack the shit out of you;
i’m a mother nature fucker.
yah, i got your last text.
yah, i got your last message.
yah, i got the message.
nah, i won’t return your text.
nah, i won’t return your message.
ha! i hope you get the message.
you don’t choose your gender.
you don’t choose your color.
you don’t choose your sexuality.
you don’t choose your birthplace.
you don’t choose your family.
one thing you can choose:
respecting people that are different than you,
considering they didn’t have a choice in the matter.
aww, sweetness, you thought this was about you?
aww, beautiful, you truly do have no clue.
aww, gorgeous, you were once my boo.
aww, love, i used to love you too.
aww, darling, if you only knew.
aww, sexy, you left me for someone new…
wait, this took a turn like a U;
you executed a poetic coup!
fuck! maybe this was about you.
fuck me! i have no fucking clue.
fuck shit! i was your side-boo.
fucking fuck! you didn’t love me too.
fuckitty fuck! please don’t tell my crew.
it’s been 10 years; still haven’t found someone new.
so blue, so blue, so blue.
fuck it, i’m through. you’ll find me dead in the loo.
i’ve tossed and turned for countless nights,
wanting to turn all my wrongs into rights.
i’ve dwelled on those words that caused so many fights;
all i want now is to change these reds to green lights.
so we can move on with our lives like stringless kites;
fading from the view and gone out of sights.
but i know i’m out of chances; love fucking bites.
that’s the end; i’m all outta gripes.
my stomach still aches over the moment;
that moment for which i wasn’t even around;
i was out galavanting; hollering at this one
or that one or another one.
it was just you and our child;
i was gone; checked out.
i wanted this; i wanted that;
but i wanted none of that.
i’ve used every excuse i could imagine;
no reply from you; no word from my kid;
no more cry from you; all crying for me;
this sounds like another ploy from me.
is there one more line you’d fall for?
one more that you’d believe?
one more that’d give me another chance?
no? i didn’t think so. you’ve finally learned.
our love was like this ceiling fan;
once pristine; sturdy; on high; frenetic energy;
switch was turned off;
our love slowed like this ceiling fan;
slow, slow, slows, slowing, slowed…
stale; wobbly; dusty; lifeless;
it’ll get turned on once in awhile, but not
without creating a dust storm;
such has become our love.