she slams
the padded hammers
down upon
the xylophone keys
discordant tinkling
in the middle
of the night

she sent
x-rays of her ex
pressing tiny fingers
against the soft spots
she knows
as well as
anyone possibly could

examining my failings
she circles
the parts of gim
she took the time to understand
in bright red
three times to show
his heart his mind his cock

but deep down
she knows
exacerbating his flaws
calling out his consistency
demanding to know
if he has developed
a routine

exhuming the corpse
of what they were
to crumble the foundation
of who
he has become
insecure because she knows
he is where he wanted to be

but smart enough
to know
that by extracting
his comfort
she can make him feel
like the worthless sludge
that makes her feel better

he feels exactly
as she hoped
such an easily
manipulated fool
questioning his every word because she cannot stand
him being happy

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