Backstabber

The moon seems somehow hollow tonight; It’s light ghostly and intangible – It peers at me like a baleful eye, marking me out Spotlighting my sad state of solitude ‘Look at you, all alone,’ it mocks, in clangorous tones, ‘See how he has deserted you – the one who ruled your world.’ Oh yes…see how he has abandoned me, The brash and beautiful traitor; Satan-snake in the grass… Furious, my shoulders stiffen, the muscles in my back twinge; Outrage boils in my guts, a seething whirlpool of bile and venom And as I remember your face, your haughty stare, it hits - I am overtaken by the nausea of wounded pride And the worse – oh so much worse – pain of a freshly massacred heart It is so powerful that tears of agony sting my eyes I am forced to bow my head so my hair falls forward, Curtains my face so the cruel moon won’t see me cry… You know, beautiful brute, I think you’ve killed me this time I can even feel the hole you left…the one you gouged in my heart My probing fingers can detect it, leaching misery into my blood, Spouting black despair like desert oil… And as for my trust, well, that’s all in tattered shreds; A bloodied battlefield banner, lying crumpled on an airless day I can imagine, sweet, that wherever you are you’re gloating In one fell swoop you annihilated my heart and soul You put me through the agony of sleepless nights, And endless days unable to eat for wishing you were here And at the end of it all, when you did appear, all you did was stab; Was plunge your knife into my exposed and fragile spine – And twist…and twist…and twist… Until I slumped, weeping and worshipful, onto the glistening moon-washed floor…