\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1787226-In-Need-of-a-Title
Item Icon
Rated: GC · Poetry · Relationship · #1787226
We recently celebrated a wedding anniversary. I wanted to write a love poem. Is this it?

You’ve called me a cunt
More recently than you’ve told me I’m beautiful.
You called me a cunt months ago.

We were wild, then.
Wild together, drunk.
Drunk and laughing at the world.
You and me.
You-So Smart and Handsome and Strong!
Me-So pretty and Funny and Young!
Wild together.
Drunk, laughing, shouting at strangers.
So funny, laughing loud!
Drinking with friends-
Here’s to us!
Damn everyone who says it couldn’t last!
We were wild, funny, laughing, fucking-
Fucking loudly!
You and me.
Wild, drunk and fucking.
So funny! Such fun!
Fuck everyone who says it couldn’t last!
You-So big! What hands! Say you love me again!
Me-Full of you! Foolish to think you were my hero.
So Funny! Such Fun!

Then came her.
Conceived in sin.
Two fornicating drunks
Fucking loudly.
I was on my hands and knees.
Or you were on your hands and knees.
Who knows?
So drunk, so funny, laughing loud.
Conceived in sin, here she comes!
Sliced from my belly,
I couldn’t give birth right.
Pumping and bottle feeding,
I couldn’t breast feed right.
Then formula and bottle feeding,
Because the milk’s too sour!
She’s crying and I cry with her.
Already so much in common!
I can’t sleep. She won’t let me sleep.
And I hate you. You are no hero!
I am crazy then.
You speak quietly, slowly to me.
Offer patient advice.
It tastes like condescension.
I know you know I’m crazy!
I want to scream in your face.
And you’re so patient.
You aren’t talking to me like I’m your best friend anymore.
I could murder you while you sleep!
You keep speaking quietly-
This was a terrible time.
Mea culpa, Joe! My bad!
No more laughing.
No more fucking.
No more funny fun.
A terrible time...
The angriest days I’ve known.
How did they become months?
A year? More?
Mea culpa, Joe!
I sat on a lot of dicks before I settled on yours-
Drunk and laughing and wild!
Drinking, laughing, wild I tried to forget.
The morning I woke up
In a strange room.
All alone, my thighs glued together
With blood and cum and shit.
Drinking, laughing, fucking--
My way to forget.
But then she came, conceived in sin.
No more funny fun meant remembering.
And remembering, I took it out on you.
Because now your hands-What hands!-on me,
Foolish Me, thinking you would be my hero-
Made me sick.
Months, A year, More.
Mea culpa, Joe.

This is not a good love poem.
But I am not a good wife.
I do not cook well.
I am surly.
I do not clean well.
I am rude.
Months, a year, more...
We have changed together, grown a Family.
We are fucking and laughing again.
I do those well.
I hope we fuck and laugh ourselves into old age,
Though there were times I didn’t see us lasting another day.
But for your patience-
Your infuriating patience!
You waited me out.
         Do you remember the night you accused me of that?
Well, you waited longer.
A kiss between my shoulder blades when I slept with my back to you.

You have called me a cunt
More recently than you’ve called me beautiful.
But you show me you love me every way you know how.
Damn everyone who said it wouldn’t last!
© Copyright 2011 tarabites (tarabites at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1787226-In-Need-of-a-Title