He said: Maybe I’ll marry her
and when our son turns eighteen,
I’ll kill myself as a gift. A life of
torture and then death. He deserves
that. And oh how I wish you too
were here to see all of this. Daddy,
look at how I am paying for your sins.
If God was teaching me to forgive—
it is not working. I hate you both.
I have nothing left to say and
everything to be mad about.
I don’t deserve any of this. I hope
you’re watching from wherever
you are and I hope this guts you,
that even in death it is a blade,
a never ending fall, a wretched heart
constricting, wherever both of you
end up resting, there will be no respite,
in this life or the next. May the fury
of all the women you scorned be yours eternal