The gentile warmth
Of your cold embrace
I have fallen
Under your spell
I have mistaken
Heaven for what was Hell
I am drowning
Inside of you
I am only
The part of you
That you see through

Inside the beauty
Or the kiss of a stranger
Is nothing
Nothing
I have developed
An allergy to trusting
A resistance
To caring
A dependence
On wearing
Smiles like frowns

Underneath I sit
And stare at the people who swim
In slow motion
Afloat in oceans
Paddling downstream
Making no commotion
And you are there
Eyebrows furrowed
And I still feel nothing
No gentile tugging
Pulling me up

You can wield
Words like knives
And thoughts
Like cancer
But there are no more conversations
Just one answer
No, no, no
To this disaster
I am sick
Of myself
I am sick of you