Happy


To my last lover,
Here, I write you
A letter, asking whether
You’re satisfied, well and
Happy now.

I want to believe you are,
But at the same time,
I also find satisfaction in knowing
You’re hurt, like me.

It seems sinister,
Or somewhat, rather sickening –
But lower the barrel, and listen;
You presented me promises
With hope you would protect my
Fragile tatty heart,
But little did I know that
You vowed you would never fall
For someone as peculiar as I.

This knowledge was brought to me
During our feud, our passionate vendetta,
My nightmare, my fall;
You felt it was justified and right,
Yet, you grieved.

You begged for me,
You needed me,
But what I presented
In our distanced romance.

Still, still it was not good enough.

It was deemed unnecessary,
Deemed nothing,
Deemed worthless,
Deemed pathetic.

You said it was your fault too;
They all say that.

“It’s not just you, it’s me”.

Lower your barrel once more,
There is no need to get violent with me.

You couldn’t do this anymore,
You told me.

Then you brought in her.

She waited, sacrificed her desires
So that she could see me happy,
But swore against
Those who tore me down.

She hated it.
Yet she waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And finally,
She didn’t need to anymore.

If you loved me the way you
Claimed, would you have
Tried to wait any longer?
Would you have matched your
Predecessor?

No, you wouldn’t have.

This December,
I will haunt you in the light,
I will haunt you in the dark,
I will be there.

Rest assured, though:
I am not perfect,
Nor the perfect lover,
Nor the perfect friend;
But I am a fighter
And a lover.

My heart is my shield,
My mind is my sword.

You broke my shield,
But I smote through your chains.

I had to exorcise you from me,
You were the poison in my veins,
You were the headaches,
You were the heartaches,
I cleansed you from me.

I wanted to hurt you
In the least possible way.

I was cold.

So I ask you this:
Are you happy now?

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