Her

I don't like her. Then again, I don't particularly like you either.

Listen. 

Don't just hear me,

actually listen.

I don't love you.

But talking about her:

She is beautiful.

She is a streetwalker.

She makes an effort. 

I care about you.

I want the best for you,

and she is not the best. 

Neither am I.

But her name aches,

and your words are thorns 

in my side 

and I can't breathe

I am not defending her.

You are not listening.

I am not defending you.

You open the vent.

But I say it's ok,

I want to help.

It is no lie,

but it still hurts.

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

you open this verse --- to the reader...and the first stanza gets their attention:

Listen.
Don't just hear me,
actually listen.
I don't love you.

as the rest builds into this ---
the complication renders in the lines...
yet speaks with blunt force...
and let's it all out...

[misha]

Such an emotional piece. Great write!

[Alessander]

I really love the line "her name aches".
Wow. That is a great line. I also love the almost disoriented monologue, which I think reflects the emotional turmoil in the poem. It's almost a dialog in the way a crazy person talking to himself in the corner is almost a dialog. I can almost hear the other person. I also firmly believe that when any traumatic event takes place, that it does slightly push us to madness. Some are shoved completely over.