you love(d) me well and often

in that sick
bottomless way
you love everything

in order to lose it

you force your horses to run into the round pen
then set it on fire

just so you can write a mournful poem
about the sounds of their wailing agony

i don’t miss you

i miss how i felt when i was with you

but see

i love a good horror story

and you were a real fucking scream