Til' Death Did Me Dirty

I wed for wealth, not love or flames,

His touch—a curse I could not tame.

His breath was meat. His skin was rot.

I smiled wide and planned my plot.

The linens reeked of old regret,

A stench I never could forget.

The way he’d smirk, the words he’d say,

Each day I prayed he’d slip away.

I smiled through dinners—dry and bland,

My diamond ring, a hostage band.

I learned to fake a grateful nod,

While bartering in silence.

Help me GOD!

But death, it played a crueler game.

Each morning came. He rose the same.

I'd count his pills and watch him sleep,

While scheming secrets I would keep.

I sexed him once a fiscal quarter,

My body just a lamb for slaughter.

His hands were stone. His kiss, diseased.

My body froze. I dared not breathe.

No passion stirred. No glances stayed.

Just wills revised and premiums paid.

I dreamed of blood, coagulated and dry,

Maybe an accident, with no goodbye?

But no—I died. I died instead.

A snap. A stroke. A twist—I bled.

Time betrayed the plans I laid.

It wasn’t him who death had claimed.

Now maggots feast where love once lied,

He walks above, while I've long died.

No gold no vengeance, no reprieve,

Just bones that ache for what I'll never receive.

He sips his scotch, still breathing slow,

While I rot deep, six feet below.

He laughs. He lives, he eats swine,

As I decay by grand design.

So now I lie beneath the ground,

No wealth, no love, no peace I’ve found.

He walks away with all the gain,

While I lie entombed, dust and shamed.