This IS a love poem
You can't understand the pyromaniac in me.
The desire to love and then set flame to the feeling
to pour rum on it and watch the light from destruction play in the air and mock your senseless building.
Pursuing flimsy shit
like comfort while cavorting with a beast
I have no pity for you
(you wanted it)
You took the shit
(you wanted it)
Even when the recognition of evil was so blatant you had to hum and whistle to block out the sounds of your bones being crushed
you stayed
(you wanted it)
Even when the carefully crafted look in my eyes changed from friend to foe and the heat from my gaze threatened to leave a mark
you still held out your hands
palms up
And when I finally found the place to cut you
where the pain would be the most exquisite
and I went about carving my real name
even then when you looked up at me and saw there was no room for you
that there never had been
Even when the veil came down and the teeth came out
you still blindly reached for my hand and tried to tell me things about love.
Phil Barnes (who is a she) is a poet and fiction writer currently residing in Uptown, Mpls with her Beta Mayhem. While this is her first attempt at publication, she has shared her work at multiple events including the 2011 St. Paul Art Crawl, Chronicles from the Wall-a First Friday event and several random gatherings of writers in dark taverns. She will also be hosting an event for the upcoming 2012 St. Paul Art Crawl.
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