to the very core

even though she was rotten

to the very core

fucked around on me

her other men

I could not quit her

until I did

& then I missed her

in my very being like

holes in new wood

damp beds in winter

ripped patches of wallpaper

books with the end pages

torn out

I’d torture myself thinking of

the way she bent at the waist

stood in a room of people

to glow out

crouching to cuddle a child

any damn thing she did

& I wanted her

ached to do things with her

knowing I was sick

for letting her hurt me

but wanting more

just for the few good times we’d had

there was no doubt I was one sick puppy

licking the hands of the beast

holding the stick

& I could not not think of her

until I could quit this sickness

as I sat

hoping time would be the cure

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