The pain you caused me,
the utter despair of your betrayal;
delicious.
I've studied this ache,
have lent towards devotion;
it is a dynamo of longing and regret;
my pen's lifeblood.
Now you,
holding on to the feeling keeps you
perfect;
all your beauty transformed into the supernatural,
a cause for introspection.
To dwell on you,
not that it's really you;
you've become an abstraction,
your real has disappeared
and you're now my muse nemesis.
"I watch the rain slant outside my window,
while you tread real earth."
