to L.

To L.,

I hate you
I hate you like a deep festering sore,
an infection that spreads decomposing
through a rotten limb.
A blackened pussing wound that never heals.
Every day
I awaken to an empty bed...
Every morning
as over reheated coffee, I recall that
Every hope
that has sustained me through the years
has been a lie...
A fucking lie!
A lie...
Just like all those which echo through my mind.
Every plan
for the future,
shattered like my broken soul...
Every time
I remember your utterances of love for me,
your vow to forsake all others...
Every time
I see a flickering image of us
entwined on a
bed,
the floor,
the couch,
the kitchens,
the theater,
on Dean's trampoline...
A barrage of torment like a
movie in fast forward,
a prelude to an insanity that cannot be defied-
only reckoned with.
I see this,
and
I hate you
I hate you that you are ignorant enough
to blame me.
A man to commit the crime,
a child refusing to take the fault.
And more than any other betrayal,
beyond even that of your using me
for some twisted purpose I cannot fathom-
Even beyond this, I hate you,
because somewhere not far beneath the
cracking surface,
I still love you.
I remember and recognize this...
and I hate you more.

-D.