Only short days ago we were together,

Afloat, in perfect union,

Now, this morning,

Alone, wretched,

I smash upon the rocks.

 

My demons play me like a paper toy,

All powerful, they pour rivers of molten metal,

Into my mind,

My brain, thick, slow, self-defeating,

Trips me,

And tells me,

I cannot have you.

 

Labouring to beat at all,

My heart aches,

With my own unworthiness,

And I cannot breathe.

And life its very self,

A thing of loathing,

Pain,

And confusion.