His skin was once ivory; elegance in its most basic form
He now screams of deathly paleness.

His fingers were once long, talented; connected to me
They now scrape at a chalkboard; scrawny, poking, prying.

His voice was once profound and alluring; a British orient
It’s now faded into annoyance, degraded into pain, the loathing of every octave of arrogant, pompous sound.

The time changed & the mind changed
But I’m left mindfucked; wondering what this means

My feelings, an optical illusion?
His reality, a state of indifference?

Eitherway:
I reckon I’m glad, to be rid,
Of this horrible, horrible evil little parasite,
Hopefully, he’ll be kept at arm’s length
For I don’t think I can bear
A creature so afraid, so undead.








**Dear Parasite,
This is the last you’ll hear of me.
Go bloat and float arrogance somewhere else,
We have no need for it here.