I miss you
my beautiful beast.
My angry muse;
a perfect reflection
of who I once was.
The last time I saw
the pale lines
that made up
you,
I lost it.
I was convinced you'd
be the last person I ever saw.
I was convinced
I'd die with you
clawing your way
through my brain.
I couldn't get away from you.
I didn't want to;
until I did.
Until I called some
friends I had not yet met.
They wanted to show me the way.
They wanted to know if I knew the way.
I did not my love.
I tried to tell them I hated you.
I swore I'd rid myself of you
but I always felt invincible
when you were killing me.
I couldn't stay away from you long,
could I?
When I felt I had failed,
when I knew it was over,
when it wasn't,
I felt sorry for myself.
I felt alone.
And we're not meant to be alone.
No-one's meant to be alone.
That's why I picked up where I
left off
when I returned to you.
They thought they'd flushed you
out of my system.
But no,
I know
where to find you
when the pity party
has come to a close.
Call it luck.
Call it fate.
But I needed to taste you,
and then to hate you,
one last time,
before it was
too late.