I Cracked the Cream Cheese Through Your Whine

I Cracked The Cream Cheese Through Your Whine Wining And Dining we savoured together and we still share five beautiful children sweet as ‘sugar iced cinnamon buttermilk honey and all’ but the spinning trough was too deep for your prickly shallow mind for the toxic consumption those grated minced words rasped on days evenings and nights and turned into that moaning groaning eternity far from little deaths under the duvet’s cotton sheets turning from feathers to rags to fragmented scrappy torn tattered reality from dreams Numbed in numberless routines and pretences we lost our jackpot and the wine jugs and the pitchers cast increasingly larger shadows imbibed and consumed the poisoned chalice held us together for far too long a while when your middle life's whining spun out of control when the whimpering and droning you chose as your weapon shackled as a poisonous larder corroded eating me up eating me down one fungal bitchy bite at a time one malicious thick tongue sprouting abrasion Everything you alleged was my fault the wine the dine and surely your whine and all the destructive fermentation from mellow beauty to fast rotten desert Our home our castle transformed into a rocky fort with spikes and razors sharp wires a dungeon with no easy escape from the absence of cheese dinners and the acid of blue tangy veins in our Roquefort lost the balance from butyric ‘charm’ towards the endeavour of saving some love in face of purulent craving caving our cave You did not pass me the cheese but I took it and regained agency control over my life and okay you fleeced me in the process hired a cantankerous dyspeptic lawyer contaminated our children spread rumours disgrace and hatred with slick seeming impunity before everything came out in the wash in the sifting and shifting and then me treading like a frog in the milk pot churning and spurning from milk to butter produced enough cheese I could stand on to reject your vicious venom Time is a great healer and so is cheese for that matter and I will admit that my life still has the odd hole like an 'Emmental’ from the mountains but the essence source is surrounded by beauty of life vitality now and a shiny path up those hills heights and valleys I conjoin share with my new lover companion wife soul-mate and friend who moans and groans together with me under different stars with no wine and no whine at all but in praise complimenting complement respect kindness and love You the whiner have not moved on I believe although almost a decade has passed in which plenty of hurts and injuries maybe the odd application of honesty responsibility introspection and acknowledgment could have imbued your own cheese making process but instead you remain the angelic victimising victim with walkers and stalkers matching your hawker’s helplessness and they fondle your soulless heart and the plastic **** you had made at Harley Street as a parting shot for and from your whining Ego 05th August 2016