You don’t understand a thing.
This didn’t “just happen.”
You blame me, you doubt me,
while she lies straight to your face-
her eyes full of venom,
her tongue sharpened with confidence.
And you-spineless-
you question your own sight.
But you saw it.
Her ass bent low,
swallowing another man whole,
pushing his dick out with practiced grace.
And yet she looks at you,
smiles, denies,
makes you doubt the blood still dripping from her lips.
Who crowned her queen?
Who handed her the power to spit on proof,
to crush you even caught red-handed?
You did.
Your silence carved the throne.
Your silence fed the beast.
And the man behind her,
laughing, cock still wet,
celebrates himself-
a king of filth,
while she parades as queen of deceit.
What are they?
Nothing.
What are you?
The answer is filthier:
You are the silence.
Not silence today-
the silence of yesterday.
The silence that ignored the stench of betrayal.
The silence that dressed red flags in white gowns.
The silence of lambs led to slaughter.
The silence of cowards like you.
Like me.
So rot in it.
Drown in it.
Stay away, or stay buried-
what difference does it make?
This grief is not a burden,
it is your inheritance.
It is the weight of your weakness.
Carry it.
Break under it.
Bleed with it.
Because some grief
doesn’t leave.
It devours.
ABOUT THE POEM: "Misunderstanding" is a visceral, furious confrontation of betrayal, specifically targeting the self-inflicted pain of the wronged partner. The poem dismisses the deceitful woman and the laughing accomplice to focus all rage on the "spineless" silent observer. It asserts that the ultimate betrayal was self-imposed: the "silence of yesterday" that dressed red flags in white. This weakness becomes the inherited "grief," which is not a burden to be carried, but a devouring force earned through cowardice. Subscribe
Please login to comment
0 Comments
Oldest








