Of Mockery and Men

Your name burns my lips;

the world rips their tongue off

when your Satanic name rings their ears like a bomb gone off

just in case I’m not ready yet to hear about the past.

And I’ve let them do this (I never felt

anything wrong with the hushed tones)

but it’s not right to box breathing animals up.

So please bare with me, as I’m just warming up

to the way the vowels interact with the consonants

of your first name alone.


Someone wrote me a love letter, a confession of

their sins and a hope that I’d live up to them,

You thought I’d not know…

like everything you did not trust me with.

You didn’t have the courage to put your sign to it

To the velvet crumbled paper you thought I’d rejoice


And when I bailed, not comfortable with that arrangement,

without my clothes in your voyeuristic dreams,

you told me you loved me and that’s all that mattered,

not your sick twisted imagery of me with an unrealistic smile.


It is with deep pride that I write this,

and with embarrassment of past decisions that I exclude your name,

as you are a figure I wish to let go in the years to come

and with every word I grow farther from the way

you bruised me.


And to everyone who thinks they were the disconnect

when anyone is treated the way I was –

“You are more than the man holding you back

less than their guilt.”

You are the person who is going to be wonderful,

but only when you rid themselves of you.

A little compilation by me and  Agrim yet again.


8 thoughts on “Of Mockery and Men

  1. ” She has a bookshelf for a heart,
    and ink runs through her veins,
    She will write you into a story
    With a typewriter in her brain..”
    ” Why write of people she once knew?
    But she hopes one day she will mean enough,
    For someone to write about her too.”
    Maybe Erin Hanson had you in his mind when he wrote this piece of art.
    Girl, you nail it everytime.But since I am a practical person and doesn’t understand love as much then, I guess I have probably made errors while understanding the poem. Help me with it. x


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