This Woman's Scorn

If I could but hate you

I would

roundly, soundly

completely, replete

with loathing

awash in the negative flow
of icy emotion

drifting through eddies

cold and angrily swirling

bitterly biting back

my feelings

for contemptible you

If I would but hate you

I could

float on a river of malice

indulging myself by bathing

in currents of vigorous rage

filled with self-righteous indignation

bitter but wiser; animosity’s sage

mercenary woman

hell bent on a mission to hell

no inhibition or quiet submission

vengefully venting vitriolic venom

Oh, if I were a hating woman

I could have; would have

hated hard

been disgustingly mean

spiritedly unspiritual

would gladly have eaten

the poisoned apple

of willful, stubborn unforgiveness

knowing it would kill us both

while not caring a whit