PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

I hope you had fun - poem

Sunday, Jan. 13, 2002
I suppose some things surface right after you think you buried it. This reads like a happy little suess ditty…strangely enough I cried like a baby when it finally came out on the page.

‘I hope you had fun’

Friday you kissed her underneath flesh
You melted and missed her
And still said you loved me best

Saturday you held her inside lies full of bliss
And you told me you were late
With imaginary excuses like lists

Sunday you came back and made love to your wife
Wrapping your arms tightly around all your lies
Like memories taunted you’ve loved me for life

Monday you fucked me completely and true
When you told me about your weekend
And when you were exactly with whom

Tuesday I shot you with love from a gun
In simplicity I’ve bought you forever
Alone with no one, I hope you had fun


I think it came out tonight because last night while talking to “him” he said “when I called you he just said “yeah she’s here” and handed you the phone so he’s not all that bad is he?” I replied, “if you say so…are you trying to tell me to just stay married and work it all out?” He said, “I can’t tell you that because I wouldn’t stay with a cheater.”

And there you have it. Would you stay with a cheater? This poem really happened to me. I think it’s disgusting that I just wrote from truth. How could a person cheat on you on a Friday night..then a Saturday night and then sleep with you on a Sunday night and turn around and tell you on Monday? How? Fuck…I will never understand that. I will never get it. I hope I never relate to that fucked up way of thinking. Fuck...now I’m crying and I thought I was past this. How do you get past this?? A year of therapy later and I’m NOT past it. It makes me feel small and stupid and used and useless.

Its only in the briefest of moments that I feel whole again. Only when I laugh with “him” only when for one or two minutes I can forget and remember me.


-PoeticaL

I've been plucked from this timeline
Dangling like a wilted daisy
From the hand of a child
Melting into this nightmare
-Lost in Time – Lynn
(the scroll)
4:53 a.m. ::
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