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A Worrying Escalation
by ChloŽ Yates

She said she couldn’t love me,
That I was not her type;
So I sewed fish into her curtain hems
And left them there ‘til ripe.

He told me he was leaving
And that I was now the past;
So I found his precious vinyl
And snapped them up like glass.

She told me she’d been unfaithful,
That we were on the rocks;
So I took matters into my own hands
And locked her in a box.

He sang to me of passion
While sleeping with my Ma;
So I followed him for three whole days then
Ran him over in my car.

She asked me if I’d leave her be,
If I was mad or sane;
So I found a hammer and a six inch nail
And banged it in her brain.

He said I was no longer
The apple of his eye;
So I cooked his toes in a tasty broth
And served them up with pie.

You said you didn’t want me,
That I am just a fool;
So now I’m here to seal your fate
With my gigantic tool.