She does have a beautiful face
And eyes that work like witchcraft,
Slow, hypnotic and dark,
And the body of some goddess,
But she’s a rotten one,
Cold down to her core.
And I hate her so very much,
And I hate seeing her wherever I go,
And I hate when she appears in dreams.
Why! Oh why does this happen
When I hate her this much?
Not green nor whiskey work
To drown it out,
She’s a stubborn one,
Refusing to leave me be,
And it makes me hate her
So much more.