The Wrath of Jealousy

The fucking
blindness I reached
from the
jealousy of her
touch on you
shocked me into
such intense
self-loathing
that I can't
comprehend
the grit
of my teeth.

The grit I wish
were her bones.

It's
pathethic and
so selfish that my
ego could reach so far,
but I'd still
take your
breath if I could.
I'd force her
beauty from your eyes
and how much
more
she
gave you.
I'd demand you to
see there is
more
than her skin.

The fucking blindness I've
reached by rage
is consuming,
wholly.


I submit to the
dark.

That I am not what
you

want.