Fuck kindness.  Kill me with honesty.  Either that, or kill me with a baseball bat with a nail through it.  That’s what all the bullshit feels like.  Recoil of the heart.  Dry heave of the soul.  It’s acid reflux with real acid.

At this point, it’s hurtful on purpose.  A treacherous mouth to kiss.  The thought of it crawls over me like a spider in the dark.  I never saw it.  I can’t blame anyone for my oversight.  You didn’t kill me, but you threw a beating on trust for a long time.  It’s a sour thing to do.  Probably a thing people do because of pain, or pity.

I must have showed up in the right place at the right time.  As you were sharpening your blade.  A fresh coat of lipstick.  Fresh from heartbreak, hungry for heart-meat.  Oh what a sweet little game you played.

Played it too well.  I think you allowed yourself to get strangled in your own web.  You drank some of the spiked punch you were serving.  It made you loopy.  Caught in the fantasy.  Played love in a way I’ve never seen it played.  Merciless.  With spiked armor.  Playing dirty.  Looking to blow out knees and slice achilles tendons.

I guess I got away relatively intact.  Still walking.  The flesh wounds will heal.  The heart will grow stronger over time. The bullshit detector will eventually recalibrate.  This is the price you pay to dance with little devil women.  You knew I hadn’t let my wall down, not all the way.  You tried all the tricks you had.  You wanted a clear shot with the harpoon.

What a ruthless way to spell love.  Careful and cutthroat.  What a tightrope you walked.  Walked it well, I must say.  Snuck in with trojan horse hospitality.  You gave me everything I could take.  I let my guard down enough for you to get in a couple pokes with the knife.

I’ll wear these scars proudly.  I’ll display them like a necklace.  No revenge.  I won’t pass on your poisonous cup to anyone else.  I’ve been sipping it.  Inoculating myself, one painful mouthful at a time.  Belching little heart shaped bubbles.  

I wish you wouldn’t have been so kind.  I hope you’ll choose honesty next time. 

I guess I was just an accident nick-named love.