HELL HATH NO FURY

You show up at my balcony

Scaling the walls and windowsills

Balancing on the lies you’ve created

There is nothing romantic about this story

There’s nothing in the sonnets

Of poisoned filled words

Your toxic vials are lodged deep within my throat

This story wasn’t written because I cared

These things just happen

Yet, we don’t know the extent of our mistakes

I’m just a dead play to you

So I reserve the right to alter the ending

So it suits my needs of innocence and foolishness

I refuse to curl up, drink in your poetry of suicide

So if you should

Find my dagger in your breast

Remember I warned you

“Hell Hath No Fury than a Woman Scorned!”

Reviews

[Ebb and Flow]

I absolutely loved this poem. It's amazing and I can relate to it.