two poems by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

I’d Rather Have My Teeth Pulled

I don’t hate you—
that would mean I still care

maybe I hate myself
for being completely unaware of your ways;
your black-hearted, psychotic manner
which you cleverly hid behind lies
and that shit eating smile of yours

it was almost as though I’d spent
the last few years of my life smashing mirrors
and walking under ladders
to end up with such a fucking disaster
as you

you crossed my path
like a rabid black cat
and I was foolish enough to stroke your fur

you drew me in with your bravado and bullshit,
made me think you were something other
than what you really were—

fuck you for that
fuck me for believing it,
but that’s how silky smooth you were,
you went down like brandy
and burned like vodka

but I don’t waste my time plotting revenge;
ultimately, your darling personality
will be its own reward—
you can’t spend all that time and energy
dishing up a shit sandwich
without eventually eating it yourself,
and when at last you’re where you’re meant to be
with the devil’s pitchfork straight up your ass
I want to say I’d like to be there to see that
but I’ve already been
and I sure as fuck don’t ever want to go back
Happy Ever After
I never thought I’d admit it
but I want it
I want the goddamn fucking fairy tale
that everyone moons and raves about
but always seems to be just out of my reach—
I want love; big, crashing, heart-stopping
end-of-the-world love, the kind that makes
you stupid and keeps you up all night with
the wonder of it all, the sort that solves all
problems and cures all ills and makes you
feel immortal, but all I have to keep me
going is my integrity, self-induced orgasms,
and angst-ridden, gut-driven, bloody heart
on a fucking sleeve poems, but it’s okay—

at least I can dance to that


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