I fume with repugnance
While leaking despair,
My lips shout derision
As I tear out my hair.
You foul-mouthed demon,
You’re stuff of my dreams,
But in fact, you’re not there.
You lie far much deeper
Beneath dreams and thought
And destroy all the traces
Of love which you wrought.
Yes, my heart is a shell
Of that I’m aware
But leave me my mind
Or by God, you beware.
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