You are an illness,
my infection, my lie.
I think I might love you
but hate, still I try.
You are my poison,
my escape, my release.
I ask you to take me
for at last I'm at peace.
You blinded my heart
with both hate and corruption!
Why say that you love me?
Why face such destruction.
But no I can't have you,
you're not mine to take.
Yet still as I see you;
it's but my heart that does ache.