15/30: Dear Mistress

Dear Mistress,

Thank you for fucking my husband.

And for not having the decency
to ask him
to use protection.

Silly me for forgetting
that sluts
don’t have manners.


I never blamed you
because I know your type.

As you whored your way through our first two years of high school,
I defended you.

My sister.

All biracial broken between being a rainbow and receptacle.

Don’t you know how much I loved you?

When they were putting you down,
I stood up for you.

All 115 pounds of me was ready to go to war for you.

You Trojan horse of a trollop…


When he confessed,
I gave you a standing ovation.

True story. Go ahead. Ask him.

However did you have the patience
to wait over 8 years
to fuck a man
who never felt you were good enough to marry?

Or even be his girlfriend…


Tell me
when he slid into you
did you see my initials tattooed on his arm?

See my name on his finger?

Or did the wedding band I bought cover it?

Did the skies cry as he broke our covenant?

As he came
did you feel all the brimstone he released into you?

Karma is a bitch.

You two must be related.


Hate to tell you,
but he only slept with you
because he was spiraling out of control
and you,
my dear,
are rock bottom on a road map to self-destruction.

Granted,
you snuck in just when he was pushing me away.

But,
when we were good,
baby girl,
he never looked your way.


Don’t you think that if he REALLY loved you,
he would’ve married YOU
instead of ME?

Or left ME for YOU?

Did he tell you I told him it was over?

Did he tell you how he broke in front of me?

Hate to tell you,
but if not for the child within your womb,
we might be working it out…

And I would’ve smacked the shit outta your trifling ass months ago.

But, I feel sorry for you.

I have always felt
so sorry
for you.

Such a beautiful girl.

With such an ugly occupation.

Racehorse with an injury

It is hard to hate that which you pity.

I hope you two are happy.

That you both start loving yourselves enough to break cycles of dysfunction.

And that your child
never feels
like the bastard
that you and my husband
have created him to be…

I mean
if he even IS the father...