musings of a psychopath

when I was at my lowest ebb

I told you a lie

one of many I dare say

I wish I never met you

and you whispered back

your voice laced with malice

(which I may have imagined)

I wish I never met you too

was that a lie too?

so I turned away pretending to weep

to make you feel guilty

but of course you didn’t care

so I threatened

and cursed

and wailed

like the child that I am

I wish I had the strength

to carry out what I said

and present you with my wrists

all gleaming and raw

but of course I didn’t

I realise I have filled myself

to the brim with anger

because I cannot deal

with the truth of us

or really the truth of me

that there isn’t enough

anger in all the world

to push away my

love

(or whatever sick feeling it is)

for you

that I cannot crush

the stabbing in my stomach

when I catch your perfume

as I walk past your room

or embrace your small frame

and when I think it has faded

it comes back again

even stronger than before

and rips me in two

perhaps I am overly dramatic

but these are all facts

laid down on a page

and now when I look down

at them, assembled here

I feel a little foolish

but tell me this

did you lie too?