Dear Other Woman

"Dear Other Woman, I don't wish for you to get hit by a bus, or for someone to beat you up; or anything like that. Instead, I hope that you fall in love. Like truly fall in love. I hope that he is everything you've ever asked for, and so much more. I hope he is the source of your happiness, and that he'll be the first to make you feel beautiful.

Then, after one or two years, I hope to god that some girl just like you swoops in and ruins it all. I hope you scream and cry into your pillow every night asking yourself why he woke up one morning after his cup of tea; And decided that he preferred her light green eyes over your mocha ones.

 I hope that every time you try to kiss him after, you taste nothing but the lies that taint his lips. And after it's over, I hope that you never receive an apology. You never get answers. I hope and I pray, you blame yourself for the longest time like I did. Then maybe, just maybe, you would understand."

Voices

I have gotten used to the radiation.
This I have repeatably said.
It is not revenge, anger, or frustration.

This is my life's new direction,
It's not all in my head.
I have gotten used to the radiation.

They told me I wouldn't feel the alienation,
Can you hear the wailing of the dead?
It is not revenge, anger, or frustration.

Slow, invisible, suffocation.
It lingers down, beneath my bed.
I have gotten used to the radiation.

Inhumane mutilation.
To my death bed, oh so it led.
It is not revenge, anger, or frustration.

A critical, wasted life, situation.
Disfigured words left unsaid.
"I have gotten used to the radiation,
It is no longer revenge, anger, or frustration."