Fruitless

He wanted her
So he took her – willingly
She gave herself to him fully
Blind, deaf, & dumb –  ignorant to
Warnings, she denied him nothing 
Since that fateful day she held out
Her hand & fed the paper tiger
Setting the precedence, manipulated
By the game he knew how to play
All too well.

In time, life choices prove detriment
Fueled to inflict pain & chaos,
He did as he pleased, while she bore
Shackles, a prisoner of domestic war
Morphed into a shell of someone else
Morphed into existence non-human.

She was his, but not to love
She was property, to be used
Bruised, squeezed, eaten alive
He feasted on her skin, flesh, & core
Masticating each bit, he left behind
Only seeds, picked out from the soul
The passion fruit core, eventually
Even the seeds he chewed & spit out.

With belly full, his expressionless eyes
Scan the quiet aftermath
Methodically, as if in familiarity,
He gathered used, sticky utensils,
Leftover scraps & debris tossed 
Into the sink – then, just as the whir of
The garbage disposal filled the air &
Began to inhale refuse, he peered in…
As if to make sure all was cleansed, 
Free from DNA contamination, free
from all tangible existence, free…
From her, he finally exits the room
Satisfied, sans remorse, yet he is sadly
Mistaken…& far from ever being free.

Oblivious to spiritual life force,
A life source beholden of the core
Ingested earlier – her core – her life
Ethereal in every purpose & justified
Her truth reborn in karmic fashion 
Navigates his path of mortality as
Appropriately deemed, tis painful –
The truth hurts, so now it’s her turn
To force regurgitation guttural core
This, her payback – ultimate vendetta.

She wanted him
So she took him – as karma dictated
She gripped hard, unbeknownst to him
She owned him til the end, conquered 
Her soul reclaimed in spirit, validated
An existence fruitful, now can rest.