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.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

KnightRobot

I love this. I love the structure and the bold parts fit in so well. I love the person who signed it as well. Most of all, I love the imagery.

ZeroGravity

Thank you so much!!!

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