Bad Poetry

If

“If you loved me,”

I scream

“You’d hit me with your car!

You’d let my guts come up out of my mouth

And you’d pick them up with no gloves on your hands

You’d pick them up tenderly

But wouldn’t cry like a little *****

And you’d put them in a treasure chest

And sail me away to the south of France”

“If you hated me,”

I scream

“You’d look at me in bed and move the strand of hair hiding my eye

And you’d kiss my scars with your pink chapped lips

You’d tell me I’m Beautiful Despite Them

A song would be playing in the background that I love

Maybe it’s my favorite 

And you’d call it our song.”