They want me to push you away. They say you hurt me, but i don’t want to believe. For i find a certain safety in your arms of ugliness, the only things that want to embrace me lately. And even when i think i’m done with this abuse, i don’t know the sweet words that will sweep you away, some old childhood incantation that crawled away from my bitter memory when it turned its back for a moment. You are a sickness; i can’t control you, though there are magical concoctions that can. But i can’t make the quest for them alone, and you have me feeling as though there’s no one who loves enough to help. They don’t believe me when i tell them that you haven taken over who i am. I know not if they deny your power, your existence, or the fact that you have chosen me for your victim. I only want to go back and forget i ever looked into your dark eyes. But it is too late and i feel as though our tainted courtship has ruined everything. You do not comfort me when i cry in dark corners, but you push those who try away. Please don’t tell me i must learn to live this way. Yes, you inspire me, but is it worth it? I know this answer no better than any of those to the other biting questions you use to beat me down.
