He was always so kind to me, only to me,
until enchanted with her smile, he cast me aside
and married her under the sweet orange tree.
I never knew I could till I cried;
the tears cracked a mask of sanity worn
too long. They hit the ground, faded, dried.
For dreams shattered I did not mourn,
nor hopes crushed by his plastic bride.
Not flowers watered with saline, forlorn -
but for the sound of the ocean's tide
as the currents sucked his body into the slime.
He was too young, he shouldn't have died.
I go back to visit the water sometimes,
listen to the waves, in turn, confide;
the ocean knows. I think in tercet rhymes
and remember how he took my pride.
He wasn't even thinking of me.
It was for her that I was denied.
And I'm not sorry when I sit by the sea
that I replaced those pills with cyanide.
Because he deserved it - didn't he?
{song: Cardigan Weather by Meg & Dia - lyrics
word: 018. ate (ruin/delusion)}
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