You used to be a silent, deadly ill;
black cancer cells embedded in my brain.
An aneurysm guaranteed to kill;
death by degrees, but then I was insane.
The brainwashed bride who trusted, so intense.
Your claim I was to blame made perfect sense.
grows apprehensive, darting eyes, tense face.
Accepting fault holds hands with understands,
to disagree is not perfection's place.
Examples underline, force feed, conceives.
Perfection fails again, Bad Bride believes.
like maggots crawling underneath my skin,
the Bastard's Bride; by then already dead,
agreed she should be punished for her sin.
Malignant greedy tumors need to eat;
how sick is that? The Perfect Wife looks beat.
the Bride escapes and everybody cheers.
Twenty years of nightmares, night and day.
She screams alone but everybody hears.
Love comes and goes, but never trust. Twice fooled ?
The cancer's gone, but she remains well-schooled.
my wings pinned by the sharp rap - rapping knock.
And I these many years consumed by guilt,
can smell your cancer long before you talk.
How odd, I find no time to let you in.
The Blushing Bride goes by the name of Sin.
so many years I've lived as though I'd died.
Today I'm finally cured, let life replace
the maggots that no longer grow inside.
I forward your new letters, all unread,
to a folder I named "Spiders" in my head.
I trust, I love, I laugh, look Ma, no scars !!
And you stuck in a room with spidie spoors;
But I don't need no specimens in jars,
It's not revenge that makes this moment sweet,
but life itself, the challenge that I meet.