Shock the Rose

You cannot let it drop, the imaginary subtexts, The ideas of reference in each line, each word, Are you so important that it all is meant for you? Or do you know deep down it’s simply too absurd? I have kept each page of hatred you have sent, Like a butterfly collector pinions wings onto boards, In the electric yellow vaults of micro folders, On hard drives and in memory meticulously stored. Each savage comment copied, each venomous critique, Each post of warped disgust, distorted and obtuse, Each schizophrenic typo, every rant and every rave, Every message of dementia, every email of abuse. So I really have to tell you I have had more than enough, And the evidence provided by your paranoiac prose, Gives me all I ever needed to turn the game around, Hold on tight and watch and wait, for it’s time to shock the rose.