i see the light
just out of reach,
out of touch.

the slow fade
from that life
grows ever more
each day.

yet,
there still is
that slow burn
that She yearns for,
that She craves.

Her voice sprouts
in the back of my head,
filled with hate.

Her ever vile laugh
filled with such sin,
such guile.

my mind blocked
by the burn
of Her ire.

i’m sorry,
i failed to stay happy
like you strived to do.

i still trust Her lies,
i still fear the pain,
i still hear that flame.

my serrated anxiety
dictated by Her
warped reality.

She’s still in my head.