In the movie,
the woman is sad
and she curls into
the man for comfort
and he wraps his arms
around her
and pulls her close
and I remembered —
briefly —
when you used to
do that for me —
comfort me —
now all you do is
enrage me —
you and your
weak minded
hypocritical
ignorant politics —
and instead of
curling into you
I want to tear off your skin,
and bludgeon you with a stick,
and run over you with my car
at a very high speed,
and I find myself wishing
that instead of loving you
I’d suffocated you
one night with a pillow
and…oh
was that out loud?
Poem ©2024, Jen Payne
If you like this poem, you’ll love the poems in my new book…
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