In a sense, I still love you, counting nights begone like storms
Innocence, I find wanting, it seems I wish for the worms.
-
When I have starved myself of you,
When I’ve regurgitated with every wretch,
I promise I’ll never speak your name again,
I swear I’ll let it die like a lame Spartan child.
-
I’ve become without feeling,
Callous an bereft of everything.
You wouldn’t recognize me anymore,
For I will Never be what you knew.