Stabbed in the Back

Worshipped at the alter,
my faith didn’t falter,
but my sacrifices didn’t suffice.
I think you’re the worst,
I want to love you with words,
want you to stomp on the line in sand.

Buried the hatchet,

but my heart retracted it,
to check out the missing bolts.
I miss you ‘till it hurts,
hate you so bad and it burns,
it’s your turn to be hauled over coals.

Buried the body,

the closure was real shoddy,
but I’ll let you decompose in peace.
Your soul’s pre rotted,
heart already departed,
the maggots unable to eat.