She really loved you,
you know. Too bad you never noticed,
being too infatuated by your ego.
And by the heat you felt in your
body every time you saw her.
She was beautiful—actually, that
word was an understatement
if there ever was one, the word
ugly compared to what she really was.
Compassionate, unlike you.
Always refusing to kiss up to you,
as there were more genuine ways
to show love;
always tailoring her every move
to make you as happy as you could be.
Thinking for herself, that is,
always keeping your interest,
seducing you on a path
to your own ability to use your
I'm not sure what she saw in you.
But there was plenty to see in her.
Good thing there was someone there
to throw you in prison for the rest
of your life when you
hit her for the last time.
I know she loved you but I'm still
surprised she tried to
get you back into your house,
where you could once again
use her sex as your fix.
Her attempts thankfully didn't matter,
as they really look down on rapists,
where you now live.
Barely keeping you alive,
only so you moan her name every day.
Making you wish you could go
back and love her for real.