Louise O'Connell

A thousand poison arrows
shot straight through my heart
a thousand poison words
That don’t even start
To describe

A Thousand groupies and fans
All loving the man
And feeding his fire
with ignorance, it doesn’t start
To describe

the faith, trust and love
I placed badly
I did’t just fall in love
I fell madly
Crushed, doesn’t start
To describe

His brother and his harpie wench
saboutaged my job
he partied with them whilst wanting
me to suck his stinky nob
disgusted doesn’t start
To describe

Hitting me in the eye with force
with converse shoe in fist
is just one, on the list
Of violent attacks
He covers his tracks,     doesn’t start
to describe

His labels of my being fat and ugly
mad and gold digging
controlling and unforgiving
These accusations,
Decomposing my essence, doesn’t start
to describe

Being spoken about in earshot
Nothing pleasant I can…

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