Loving to Hate

Loving to hate

Love is but a vile hatred
Turned on its ugly head
Against nature
Resisting gravity
Undulating painfully
Straining
Waiting
For the slightest miscalculation
Or the smallest breeze of uncertainty
To right what her embrace made wrong
The neck must fail eventually
Bones will crack and snap
Muscles and tendons will tear
Blood will flow and stain
And the whole mess will come tumbling down
A formless mound of pain
Plotting revenge
Mending its wounds
Smiling amiably at the flies that come to rest
Letting the maggot-friends eat their fill
Shedding tears of anger
And watching
Always watching
For the next pretty face to come along.