Dearest Cassandra,
I'm very sorry for whom I've, lately, been
- and for the person that I will not ever be.
I, truly, wish that I could have, ever, seen
- whatever it is that you smile at in me.
I wish that I could see: why you crave a mess
- a mess as tragic as this- troubled mind.
You see: I see- myself as, very much, less
- than you see me with your eyes- so kind.
I have never seen what you- adore about me
- and, honestly, I likely never, ever, will.
When I look into the mirror, all that I can see
- is a man, or a boy, broken from all o' thee powders n' pills.