A Hateful Dance

I wrote this late one night and thought it came out decently considering I was sleep deprived...

This impenetrable madness,

picks up pace as we proceed

in our death tango that erupted

when we both began this story.

 

The pace picks up in our waltz,

as you say you like red roses

I confess to liking white

and the conductor speeds up.

 

The dance floor is covered

in marks from our furious movements

that were created when you

told me you hated me.

 

But the beat is not over

we still have one last performance

in which you show me how

I mistook you for my love.

 

We part with silence,

no more keeping our rhythm

and we move to opposite sides

of the ball room torn asunder.

 

You meet your new partner

as I find a new version of you.

You dance a pleasant foxtrot

while I recreate a harmony of pain.