Honey and the Weather

Honey,

I answered you

before you left me

standing in the snow,

ice storm cometh

with my gaze

through your flimsy spine

whilst I held my mailbox

with the fishtail for a flag

that you had bashed the brains out of

the night before

when you were drunk

and swore you

didn’t remember.

Oh please,

I rolled my eyes

like pinwheels,

you couldn’t choke me

no matter how many tantrums you threw.

Ha,

try to drown me out

with your raging violent screams-

I rang out

my bleeding drum,

pounding pulse

rhythms with my

dancing wrathful feet,

wailing chords

of fire and frenzy

that rose to the fucking heavens

to create the thunder

rolling down

on your sloppy head

once the spring came.

I always took the weather seriously,

and suggest you

finally,

fucking,

listen.