The Opposite of Ambivalence

it's that night
when three thousand bolts of emotion
shoot through you from
ten thousand different directions

it makes no difference who he is.
except it does
at some point.

but the light is dim
and you're over him
eyes closed
tears flooding
sobbing and gasping for air
while you push him deeper inside

he grips you harder
and pushes further
you dig your nails in and gasp again
you hate more than you thought you could
but you pound him for more

he could be anybody
the one who couldn't get it up for a year
the one who controlled the entirety of your skin with
a single fingertip
but left you in the end because
he didn't check the mail in time

the one who lied to the world for four solid years
and never really promised anything
but it didn't matter because the cock was good
and the revenge was even better

or he could be the one
who came inside you before you were old enough to know the difference.
and ruined everything.
forever.

it doesn't matter who he is.
because he's everybody and nobody at the same time.
and ambiguity is the perfect mask
for hatred.