Well if I saw her now my eyes would
turn inwards, my torso away from
her place, my head tilted in
disregard.
Still, her face, in all its
horrific glory, is unmoving
in my mind. And when she passes
the memories of it return
fliterringly
The knife of regret tries to cut it,
the wind of thoughts obscure it,
and the force of envy destroy it.
But she remains through it all.
How I long for the order of solitude.
Away from the malicious passion
and the maddening peace. The longing
ceases
until she no longer cares- but I do.
And in the nights when I battle for
the never coming release, I think
of the days when we were one.
I don't see her now- did I ever?
and now i suppose i wasn't so clever