Rebellion Against the Femme

I've finally thrown her out of my house.I defenestrated the cunt after all these years.I still catch drops of her blood pooling underneath the doormat and dripping from the leaves overhead of my porch.                                                                      She's still alive and out there. She survived my ferocity, the unbridled assault. The blows were heavy with panic and frustration.My mother and sister give her refuge and hide her from me. Why they love her more than me, I will never know.                                                                           After all she did. Vengeance will be sweet and wet when I catch this bitch.There will be no escape for her and I am no longer her slave, her little fantasy fuck-toy, flowery, humiliated, denied my rightful rage, and castrated.                                          We'll meet in the woods at night. And I will finally do what I should've done to her all along.                             I am going to rape her to death. I will steal the light from her eyes and I will break her spirit from the inside out.The edges of her underwear will be ragged, the lace a worn and faded maroon, like webbing of arteries splayed across the creases in her thighs.                                                   And that's all she ever was to me. Shabby lace that bled all over my hands every time I tore into it with my fingers.

This poem is about: 
Me

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