poetry

Poor o’d cook (ode to a Cook part 2) 

He killed himself…
Downed a bottle of poison
Like a Shakespearean play

The villain, a devilish cook
Who came in vandalizing a doll
Doing so with another in mind

Declared your love
Before the fashionable exit
Dramatic and tantalizing.

It makes me think
Why the attachment?
Why the letter? Why die on our floor?

It would hurt me
If there is truth to my suspicion
For I know how dark the pain is

Unbearable
To imagine or talk about
Though we may be kin

How must I start?
How to begin conversing with her?
To silence, we awkwardly dance.

Let it be false
Or a superimposed suspicion
One learned from self-experience

Let it begin
And end on a single plane
Full revolution while standing straight

Unfortunately,
Conflicted I seem to be
Why did you pick me?

Like a jealous lover
Questioning the lack of commitment
As I seem to be the ‘pass-time’.

Not the recipient of your sacrifice
Then why taint me? Scar me
Why? You sick man…

I hate your guts
Strike me where it hurts thief,
Making me second yet again.

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