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You Fuck: A Cathartic Poem for Homegirls and Homeboys who have had their HomeHearts broken

I thought

you were

the one that got away

Oh if you could

see how many

times I kicked

myself in the

fucking teeth

And then it

dawned on me

somewhat unpleasantly,

That I let nothing get away;

There was nothing between us;

I had imagined something

out of all the words of novels

But other than a conquest

and a couple nights of

sweaty sex, it was nothing

more than cotton candy

for dinner.

I wasted all that damn distress

on a guy who couldn't have cared less.

But let me just call you a fuck,

not because you deserve it

but because I really really want to:

You're a fuck

And you fucked me

OVER and under

I let you because

I was idiotic

drugged by love

At least you got

to bust a nut.


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'Hope, you don't have to use it on your wedding night.'

She handed the pistol to Hope, right after the vows, right before the reception.

'I'm just kidding, darling. Don't worry. He's a good man. You did well sweetheart. He's a good man. You'll be fine.'

Hope's paper-thin smile tried to grow as she stared at her grandmother's reflection in the mirror. The mother-of-pearl grip sparkled in her grandmother's hand, bathed by the Chapel's cheap buzzing lights.

'There's a bullet for you, just in case.'

Hope had left the gun on the table.

A week earlier, drunk off self-pity, she had taken it out of its case and walked to the kitchen, where she stuck the barrel in her mouth and proceeded to take pictures of herself to send to Ray.

In a rare instance of good fortune, her phone ran out of battery before she could indulge her sense of pithy revenge. She woke up and pried open her tear-salted eyelashes then made sure to delete an…