in drunken complimentary phrases

You told me
That you loved my frailty
And that I always seemed to be
About to smile.
Which is why I have reserved for you
My most acute rage,
I have sequestered my every kindness,
Packed up my gentle eyes,
Impounded the face that says,
“I can forgive”, and
Replaced it with

An iron spike of hate
And soon I will drive it
Through the sweet soft spot
Of your left eye socket,
Until you will know a pain
That will consume your petty flesh,
A cry to stretch your throat
Until you are a wordless wound,
A flame that will burn
And never spend itself
Lighting and relighting instead
With the wrath and fury
That transcends the body
And incinerates the soul.

Do not wait for my heavy fists,
Though you have seen my hands
And know
That I could come upon you,
Menacing my knuckles.

Do not look hopeful for my gun,
For my temper
Has a cruel finesse
And I will not spare you quickly.
And though I can be
A forked tongue viper
Do not beg for my words,
I would not waste profanities
On you – you are a void.

Instead I have reserved for you
The queen of my arsenal,
My most brutal weapon,
My sharpest blade,
My silver tipped whip,

Because I
Am going to stop loving you and
Never think of you again

And that’s when you’re going to know
How much it can hurt.