This will end.

I see her,
I see hurt.
And you make it worse
You’re the worst
It’s like you rehearse
Each and every time you say
You’ll be different in some way.
I don’t believe
In relief
Or release
Real ease
Never did more than tease
My tendrils.
But still I did ten drills
I said I did ten pills
I cleaned up seven spills
And still
I am instilled
With an unfulfilled
Need to be killed.
Cause you kill me

Your filter is filmy
And you never could fill any
Need inside yourself to be touched-
I hate to be touched.
I hate to be rushed
I hate that I have to think of her and be hushed
All because you crushed
The sanctity
Of girlfriends.
This will end
So much worse
Than a corpse.
So much worse
Than being the source
Of all your problems;
This will end.

5 thoughts on “This will end.

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