Avacado and pastel pink;
I’m in a surly state.
Your wedding to this tart, I think
Has caused me much debate.
I sit here as the vows are read. Your
Cheesy grin and black tie
Tux make me itch to declare war.
I just can’t pinpoint why.
My clothes demure to not outshine
Your wretched bride to be
Whose graceless charms cannot compare
To what you have in me.
To take you down and rile you up;
Ruffle hair and bruise lips;
Devour every ounce of us-
Remind you what to miss.
And yet I sit with no reply
As you make your mistake.
I only hope through this ordeal
I hold in what I ate.