by Joyce Grenfell

If I should go before the rest of you
Chuck not a flower nor inscribe a stone,
Nor, when I am gone, speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves that I have known.
Weep, if you must, parting is hell
But life goes on - so sing as well.

                              Joyce Grenfell

With every fiber of my being,
I hate you.
I hate what you did to me.
You treated me like a *****,
and called me one, too.
Does a ***** fight like I did?

I ******* hate you with every bone in my body.
I hope someone sets you on fire.
I'm not who I used to be,
because you couldn't control your lust.
You *******, give me back what you stole.
This emptiness burns for your head on a stick.

The violence of how you treated me
is echoed in my hatred for you.
I am not the kind of girl who has such bloodlust.
And yet, I lust for your blood for it will rectify my pain.
My blood spilled on the pavement,
Bruises that blossomed beneath my skin.

Into the fire on my own,
I know I won't see your face again,
Are you sitting there alone?
Are you thinking like me
of the laughing times,
of all the sad and loving times?
Everything that's left of us
is fading away
Promise me to think of us
as a time so wonderful
Promise me to think of us
still bright, still colorful
Promise me to look back at us
as a time in your life you enjoyed
Can you promise me?
promise me, promise me....