with every action we commemorate in vain
with every empty thought i could not sustain
you were too much for words and not enough for actions
but this is passion, thrown in all directions
i shudder to think of a love more unfullfilling
but you were there and I was lonely and willing
my heart was weary, unknowing of the outcome
when this tangled web of lies is all we become
the pictures of perfection hang around my throat
like your arms of rejection in the letters you wrote
your charm was much like your rage
reaping violence across each and every page
