Content Warning : Do you want to continue?
This poem contains content which some readers may find disturbing.
It is unsuitable for children or anyone who is easily offended.

I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.

Fuck you in all my lives

I got puking drunk  
for the first time in years  
after a run in with a  
street psychic.  

I was hiding in the city of saints  
when she hooked my eyes  
with hers,  
took a long drag off  
a cigarillo,  
and told me  
without prompting or pay  
I should revel in my pain  
as I kept your soul contract  
I caved,  

Id had one drink
on my way back to my safehouse  
intent on waking sober
so I could run at dawn
I handed her  
some money as  
she shuffled a worn pack of  
tarot cards,
and crushed  
the small cigar in  
plastic green ashtray.
I joked if you and I  
had a soul contract,  
that shit was in default  
and someone was getting
their balls
And then I stopped joking.  
She never looked at the cards.  
She never fucking
looked at the cards
Not once.  
Id glance down and see shit like  
Lovers and Fool and a tower and death  
cards with cups and swords  
but she turned them over  
to stab my eyes again  
with her pupuls  
as she said before
we ever agreed
to exist  
the fundamental we  
that has existed in all time  
before time,

our incorporeal beings,

agreed to do this  
so youd heal.  
She had on dirty orange Crocs
and told futures from a fucking  
card table on a street corner  
that smelled like piss,  
and she had the balls to say  
I am the great lesson  
from the universe to correct  
all the shit that you keep
fucking up  
for us in  
She said
we knew it

we knew it  
the moment we met.  
Knew we were us
in every known universe  
and my skin crawled
when she said  

you couldnt have
each other  
I dropped my eyes for a moment,  
she swept the cards into a pile  
and took my hand,
not to read my palm  
but to pet the top gently,  
offering comfort on some  
doomsday bullshit  
I was yours in a last life.  
and you are mine in the next  

you keep fucking it up  
the stars and the fates  
and alternate universes have  
all finally pointed
your face to that fact  
I really was the  
goddamn one.  
for you.  
I really was torn from your  
rib and created to match  
in every place but
every when but  
so Im the great  
firstborn lamb to  
sacrifice for the gods.  
And, allegedly

youll never escape  
this loss in this time  

Im supposed to love you enough  
to be the fucking lesson  
Fuck that.  
Fuck all that.  

As much as youve
lied to my in this life,  
I feel like your future self
can hard-fuck a cactus  
regardless of life cycles  
and soul contracts  
I overtipped her and  
got drunk enough  
in a strange city  
that the only good fortune  
of the night was that  
I didnt end up
at the bottom
of the river or  
tied up in a
I dont want to live this life
without you  

and I dont want you  
You suck
past my capacity  
to accept you
as a human  
worthy of me
in any time
I sure as fuck dont want to throw  
myself on some grand universal  
sword so you can get better.  

Why the fuck is it always you  
She told me.  
If I loved you.  
Id be the lesson.  
I hung over a toilet  
later that night,  
slightly amazed  
at how much draft beer  
tastes the same  
both ways  
and tried to keep my  
hair clean as the  
dry heaves hit  
I dont believe  
in that sort of bullshit  
but if I did,  

if I did

Id slit my next-life throat  
before Id let her  
near you  

Id smother future
you as an
so that Id live
in a clean world  

Id hang myself with
a strangers belt  
in broad daylight
right the fuck now  
so Id never risk  
in a time
you existed
Leaving you to your pain
this life gives you  
peace now  

and joy in the next.  
it breaks your patterns.  

(the patterns I saw)  

fuck that.  

Just fuck all of that.  

and fuck you.  
I get nothing from this  
and youve left me nothing  
of you to crave
in any age or era  
I flushed the toilet  
and crawled to the sink  
to rinse my face
and brush my teeth  
world spinning  
unsure of which way  
was up  
unsure if maybe
sleeping on the floor  
would be a better idea  
than moving

Unsure of a lot  
But sure of the fucking truth

No fucking charlatan  
is going to feed me
horse shit  
and call it cheesecake  

I know the truth.  
I know the fucking truth.  

Theres nothing  
after this for us.  

In any life.  

Written by Betty
Author's Note
(Based on a true story)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 9 reading list entries 4
comments 15 reads 127
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 3:42am by Grace
Today 3:40am by Grace
Today 3:31am by Ahavati
Today 3:06am by Grace
Today 2:56am by ajay
Today 2:26am by Ahavati