Money Mockery

I feel money mocks me. 

She leers at me and laughs when I have none. 

Delighted I'm so attached that I spend days in stiffening steeps of financial anxiety.

Worrying and wondering 

where my next sustenance will come from.

Suddenly she reappears after a long loss.

Like a toxic lover, 

but she treats me like a beggar. 

Pulling my thread, my straws,

and my legs, 

To see just how long I hold till I pass out of desperation,

She is a seductress; like a courtesan, she sways her waist to the rhythms of the slow, lulling sound.

Arousing deep desires, hopes, and wishes

Then pulls away. 

A knowing smirk on her lips

Money mocks me for wishing I was vain. 

She calls me poor in a hundred and ten languages.

She tears me apart till the heavens show me mercy. 

and laughs at my endurance,

finding it pathetic