Eight Years

I hate you for being dead, today of all days,

It’s been eight years since we’ve been married today,

Where are the cakes and the flowers,

That remind me of the few precious hours,

We had with each other, week after week,

I feel bleak,

And miserable right now,

We made a sacred vow,

To stick with one another, through sickness and health,

But your idea of providing love and comfort, was in just amassing a stupid amount of wealth,

Wealth, which I never wanted,

Because it came with an empty house, that always felt haunted,

We were two lonely souls,

You especially, having no control,

Over your time and life,

Spending anniversary after anniversary, away from me, which was hardly ever a life,

If you thought, taking me to a fancy restaurant over the weekend cut it,

Let me reassure you, it didn’t, especially since all the food you liked to eat, tasted like aesthetically plated horse shit,

I needed you then and I need you now,

So where are you? I wanted a husband, not a cash cow,

You, of all people in the world, knew this,

Yet, all you ever did, was dismiss,

My pleas, my thoughts and my views,

Well congratulations, for having it your way, yet again, you are in a forever snooze,

I hope you’re in the same amount of pain,

That the child and I experience everyday, over and over again.