What. what is this tide that turns within me?

my emotional barometer has gone haywire:
I can't tell triumph from grief

any longer.

Once I might have said I was strong,

I was blinded by your shining armour,
                the smooth glitz of your scales.

Your eyes stung me,
you shot your crippling poison into my heart.

Your fangs are still embedded in my skin,
your venom everstill circulates amongst
my bloodstream.


I seduced you—or did you ****** me?

Those days are no longer memories:
rather, they are something more akin to a
strange, fantastical dream I once had.

When will I wake up and be shown what life really has in store for me?