To The Owner of My Soul
Dear Esther,
I haven’t been the kindest lover.
After a decade of affection, I have grown impatient.
My fingers get rough,
My tongue gets sharp,
Its snake-like flicker smells your fear,
But mercilessly swallows you whole,
Suffocating you in my decaying love.
I long for your hand but you pull away,
Cutting my palms with silver rings and venomous fangs.
I offer you a home, but you run,
Breaking a window and shattering the lock.
You throw furniture,
Tear curtains,
And scream and scream and scream and scream and
Stop
Screaming!
My love, Apollo could not outperform your throat.
The Muses would invoke your name at each performance if only
You
Stopped
Screaming!
Sick witch, cruel Harlot,
You plague my days with stubbornness,
Singing in the night
And screeching on the stage.
Do not trip my fingers, foul beast
Let me play,
Let us sing!
Let us play thIS GODDAMNED SCALE RIGHT!!!
GOD!
Your Faithful Servant,
A Very Pissed Off Clarinetist.