You know what they say of people of whom it is pointed that they have a small chin?
-That there's someone feeling quite a bit of spite towards them.

I remember when we spoke of another piece about this person before you published it, and I mentioned my dislike of such attention to the physical imperfections of someone, especially as that piece went for a more healing vibe, a more formal tone.
This piece though, is full of spite. Stanza after stanza. Thin-lipped, another instance of calling into question his sexuality (and not the first time).

And no, I'm not saying it's not earned. I'm not saying it is not healthy to let out the poison from your soul now and then. But it is what stands out to me most.

You know, this image, I know it's blood seeping down from the arrow in her heart, but it always appears on first glance to me to be a woman cut open, as if on the coroner's table.
Here though? That's her heart pierced by hateful rays, and now the bile is seeping down her form, to her sexuality.

The way this poem ends is the most telling though. You've mentioned before how rationality is such a trip, but here you are, saying that you're only doing this because you must be listening to your "silly girly brain," except to hope, and to listen to our irrational thoughts? That is a big part of being human.

And yes, that means being spiteful now and then.
Though, there are different forms of "putting up" with games. And maybe something needs to change on that front. Such as seeing him for what he is, not a mean man, but a little child. And it's hard to be angry with little children who misbehave. They deserve our rolled eyes and sighs more than that. They cannot help their nature.
The scorpion can't help but sting those who did it favours.