Bounce

This is a dark poem written for a writing prompt in the True Crime, Horror Story & Dark Poetry fb group. Here is the prompt: you can write either a #story or #poem that includes a funeral, a bouncy house and lifeless body/bodies. Make it as twisted and as creepy as you can!

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I watch your body bump and bounce, but I don't give one single ounce

Of fucks over your dead body.

Your form bent wrong at the bottom of the stairs,

Causes me to smile, no more illicit affairs,

You got what you deserved.

For you were a right son of a bitch. You made my skin crawl and itch;

I'm not sad you're gone.

Someone else can go cry a river over your rotting, septic liver,

At this farce they call a funeral today.

I have no intention to celebrate,

Someone I've come to loathe and hate.

You don't deserve a drop of sympathy.

A suit to work, put on the front; every day with you a battlefront.

Sorry, I'm most definitely not sorry.

Really it's all a joke to me, 'cause all you'll ever be

Is a creepy clown, an inflatable bouncing around, with a threatening frown,

In the horror show you made my life.

And now here you flounce and flop, to that empty six-foot plot,

Without another thought, and there you'll mold and rot.

Good riddance.