I'm watching the clouds roll in,
Perhaps out of fear.
Come to me
We'll raise our faces to heavy droplets
And you can leave your red umbrella in my car.

Don't speak.
I'll take your hand and lead you
To where the wind in the pines screams your name.
You belong to me,
'Til death do us part and et cetera.

I'll let you scratch your fingernails down my spine
And the trees will entwine themselves with us
While the sky howls delightedly.
Your right eye was always a little bluer
And your left hand a little sturdier.

There you will slay me
Kiss my open sores
And when the smell of pine becomes too much,
You will leave me there to tease passers-by with my bare legs.
You always left your red umbrella in my car.

I eventually left my love in your arms.

What if I told you of a spell
One that could destroy whole countries
In the blink of an eye?
Would you scoff and turn up your collar
at my paganistic ways?
Lover, I speak the truth!
This phrase is not a lie!
It causes violent outrage
And it is inescapable.
Save yourself:
Don't pass it on!
It is not worth the carnage,
But I will tell the dreadful words, as I have told man after man:
*I love you.

Never will he love my lips
    Never will he dote and fawn
And now I seek his fingertips
    Lying lonely in the lawn

never tell me you love me
my lips are chapped with the thought of
destroying you
or maybe
you destroying me
depending on the weather

never tell me you love me
i’ll be so full of the fear of
deserting you
that
i won’t shut my eyes at night
until i’ve counted my blessings    

never tell me you love me
i don’t need any more reasons to live

Every year my family gathers around the kitchen table
(boxed wine and chatter
about distant binge-drinking aunts)
When I was young my sister carved the turkey
(swatted my hand when I reached for
the carving knife. "I want to do it this year!")
I am in her place at the kitchen table
(boxed wine and chatter
about the bruises on my knees)
I will forever stand in the kitchen
(no one swats my hand when I reach for
the carving knife. "Maybe I'll do it this year.")

Do you
Kurt Cobain
take Courtney Michelle Love
to be your lawful shredded wife?

I imagine her sitting across from him
Her lips stained a violent red
Smiling
She'd say what I say now
It didn't have to be this way

That's what's funny to me
Even afterwards she was composed
And maybe,
I don't know,
Maybe she was too full of ******* and hatred to really grasp it

But think of it this way:
Would anyone be capable of shooting up
and then shooting themselves?
Doubtfully

Do you
Kurt Cobain
take Courtney Michelle Love
to be your lawful shredded wife?

This was not love making.
This was sin
and the devil victoriously
danced between the sheets.