By Gabriel Foster She only pretended to sip from the chalice. It was important to her, That he saw her having a good time. He! The dark cloud that continued to rain on her, When she only wished for days of sunshine. He was the one that initiated her sadness, Collected her tears and poured it down the toilet With the sound of a flush. He was the sort of dark sorcerer that was like a black hole Around her, sucking out everything good she Felt about him and dumping it into the cosmic Wasteland of garbage. To spite her, he once hugged her dog instead, Pretending not to notice she needed him, When she was hurting emotionally. She knew he meant to signal to her that She was lesser than even the household animal In his eyes. No more! She smiled like the light of a moon beam, Knowing after the party, she would send him packing. She scolded herself for putting up with him all these Years. He wasn’t worth it; he was no wear near The gifted sorceress she was. She put the chalice of wine down on a passing waiter, And locked eyes with the bastard of misery Looking at her from across the room. Anger erupted through her like a volcano and she Couldn’t help herself, She softly uttered a spell that slashed all four Tires on his sports car parked in the garage. She exhaled! Turned around and went out on The balcony to look at the moon. In an hour, it would all be over with him She thought……………and she started to breath Again. GF Poetic Wisdom | When misery drips from your soul like tears, you remind him, why your brand of bitch spells with a capital b. ~ Gabriel Foster
