Poem for My Death

Why is it that death causes pain for those left behind?
Yet for those who pass we say, “They are in a better place now?”
We are left with our teeth to grind
While they are now meeting new people with a raised brow
Death hurts so much
How to stop grieving I have no hunch
I know I have to move on with my life
But all I know is strife
I should have been the one to go
What do I for my life to have to show?
Absolutely nothing!
All I have is heartache and pain frothing
Words from others manipulating
Saying, “I love you and I am falling in love with you” percolating
I have the feeling that yet again I am going to be hurt by a bisexual
But why should this be anything unusual?
Yet another relationship feels like it is dying
Causing me to not stop crying
The more I try
The more I die
I don’t give a shit what anyone says; I know that I am cursed when it comes to love
So I might as well kill the dove
He wants to spend time with his wife
No big deal! But I don’t get to spend time with her either and get left with strife
So I give them time together and then I am bored and alone
I feel like a Queen Bee’s drone
And I get dirty looks from them when they walk by
Like they want me to somewhere else fly
Yet he tries to explain how bisexuals think and such like he is the expert
I feel I am here just to help him make his cock spurt
So why can’t I just die like those who have gone before?
And on life just close the door?
I am just life’s toy
So life can have its joy
With me as its own personal joke
With me as its personal bloke