Femme Fatale

You have hurt me times uncounted,
but when you fail to comprehend,
although I tried hard to explain,
that I just cannot be your friend,

you are hurting me yet again,
because it crushes me to see
how great, wonderful, and perfect
your life has since turned out to be,

while my own is a mess in ruins.
You must admit it’s just not fair!
All the more that once in the past
in this your bliss I dreamed to share.

Neither does it help to know now
that I was the one who changed you
from Casanova to Mister
Faithful, if you swear that is true.

So after all I indeed was
the real Femme Fatale de ta vie.
That’s the most an ex can wish for
and what I always hoped to be.

Just where were you last dozen years,
never trying to expound it,
your conscience stirring only when
my infatuation’s ended?

Why are you telling me this now
and why do you suddenly care
about my opinion on you,
only causing old wounds to tear?

Maybe one day we really could
be simply friends with no remorse,
but not ere I sort my life out.
Till then, please, keep off, though it’s coarse.