You know the the feeling
of inseparable grace
hand-in-hand with a sense
of apparent distaste.

I'm so sick of sorrow
skirted by unintentional affection.
Plus, you confuse the relation
between my heart and thought sensations.

I've never hurt worse
in such a short amount of time.
You'll never read this spiel,
but a silent thought is fine.

**** this thought of hope.
**** what I would like to see.
I was so full of accusations
that I forgot to breathe.