Contempt Has a Name

I stand naked wrapped only in the truth you vile, loathsome reptile. My contempt of you is limitless as I have been force-fed your hypocrisy. Your postulations are lost on me as my insight into your repulsive nature is exceeded only by the palpable stench of your aura. Eyes opened to their widest apex, ridiculously lends support to your “jokerish” smile overly exaggerated in a… Carol Channing kind of muse. It seems your purse a revolving door to his wants, has an ideally broken clasp… Your shoulder, a never ending tissue to his every sorrow should be waterlogged. Which stands to reason why your legs stretched open as wide as the earth’s axis, “she-doggedly-in-heat” sniffs attention from him and remains open like an all night 7-11 just to provide “respite” in the name of “friendship”. You find joy in slinking and scurrying through the misfortunes and/or gains in our life, all the while professing your love to him and masticating on a stolen covenant you have orchestrated in destroying. There is no sector of my day allowing me peace and escape from your treachery and continued debauchery. Your hair once a mousy shade of brown now waxes blond in your further attempt to assure he remains suckled at your breast knowing his lust for blond haired, blue eyed women that are six shades lighter than my ebony hues. There is though, an appellative to my anguish, which recoils from my tongue at any attempt to voice this rage. Escalating anger marinates and broils within my breast as your ubiquitous presence in my life has finally left me little strength and no shelter from the uncloaked vicious pain searing me to the core in this deep abyss I have found myself in… Unleashed fury beckons me, reaching back beyond now when day was night and night was only imagined barely controlling this hate and the exigency to extract myself from this nefarious, cheap, vaudevillian show, which no longer can be ratiocinated through your insipid lies before I... Can’t imagine your expending this much energy with your own household or husband because you’re always living and breathing in mine! Contempt has a name…and its malodor is…Linda.