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it's official now

he said I'm a rabid dog
but dogs don't bite their masters
unless they've been cruelly punished
one can't expect intelligence and logic
to enter into their dog-minds
like humans can, if they can, but then
we've all got a blind spot, haven't we?
and it's usually someone we can't
conquer with our dedication to what
works magic for some, you know, the

So my dear, it seems we have reached an
impasse, there is no love between us
and your self-hate is showing, as if you
were a man in drag, dragging you down
with the weight of your preposterous ego.


I'm in love with a poet, and there can never be
another, Mr. Poole, your genes are sorely
lacking poetry, and you're barking up the wrong
tree if you think I'd ever have come knocking on
your door, though you're always welcome
in my dungeon.

I'm the one with the leather whip and black boots.
Not entirely rabid.

Editing stage: 


I've always been a bit jealous.

Jess, Neopoet Directors
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