ex.

part one of 'the vengeful feminine'

I keep my ex-boyfriend’s corpse under my bed.

It’s been there for a month now and the smell is

Starting to become a problem.

Just last week, I had a friend over and she asked,

“Did something die in here? It reeks!”

I merely laughed, made a comment about my neighbour’s

Nasty living habits and shoved its decaying arm back in its

Hiding place under the mattress.

It blends in well with my discarded clothes, socks,

And various other bits and bobs.

I simply go about my day, shrugging on my blouse

For work, as though it’s not even there.

Before, I would give it a kiss on the cheek before I left.

Now, I hardly even acknowledge it.

It wasn’t a bad boyfriend to begin with. Full of sweetness and charm,

Always attentive, never cross. It looked at me as though it could not

Believe a girl like me even gave it a second glance.

That did not last long.

Around our two year anniversary, it began to change.

“You’re going out again?” It would remark,

Sat at its desk, playing whatever first person shooter it so adored.

“You can come too, you know.” I would reply.

A shake of its head followed with, “You know I can’t stand your friends.”

I came back that night to find it slumped on the desk,

The game on its computer, still blaring through the speakers.

I leaned over and checked its pulse. Nothing.

I probably should have called the police, or gotten rid of it.

But I didn’t.

So, there it stays.

Tucked away with boxes of junk and dust bunnies.

Slowly bloating and rotting as the stink weaves itself into

The walls.

It’s like it was always a part of the scenery.

Just another piece of decor in my flat.

It doesn’t act too differently now that it’s dead anyway.

I really should do something about the smell though.