She was wearing a wedding gown
In a high school gymnasium
She was at her wedding
I was at her wedding
And what a sweat-stained spectacle
It was

Numinous nineteen
Not a groom to be seen
She was the sole bride
I don’t even know who was
Sharing vows with her

I was in the audience
There were many people in the audience
She was up on stage
Gorgeous in a gown
A mad look in her eye
As her wretched hands
Held onto wretched flowers
But not a priest or a pastor
Not a groom-bride
Or a bride-bride
To be seen

Not even twenty
She was getting married
And I don’t know to who
So, I thought her a mad woman
No, a girl
A mad, mad girl
She is still so young

I refused to believe
That she
Of lily-white skin
And unmatched potential
Not yet used
For she had not yet lived
To the fullest extent
Would get married like this
Inelegant and stinking
Unintelligent
When she was of the most brilliant mind

She gave chase
Because I insulted her
Her and her wedding
Her wedding more like a funeral
To commemorate
The death
Of her sanity

Are you ******* high?
I asked
Revolt and horror in my voice
She held onto my shoulders
A crazed look in her eye

A question
Of obsession
Was her reply
When I realised
I know the girl
I know her face
I know her dress
But I do not know
Her mind
Her love
Her life

And reply
I cannot
Where questions
Meet more questions
Mark my losing virtues
With a grip like a vice
With an uneasy voice
She asked:
Do you hate me?