17 août 2010


(2 months... well, it's been worse before. Here's some lousy crap I wrote! Yay!)


I did not mean to make you

into something you are not.

Imagined improvements projected,

forced dematerialisation of truth.

It was unfair;

an abuse you suffered unknowingly...

As I formed you into an ideal,

falsely diminishing your inconvenient traits.

But my edification came in due time,

impossible to dismiss your ineptitudes,

pretending no longer...

Demolition. End.

I supposed there would be torment

once the picture shattered.

But there is only silence,

serenity more than torpor.

Still, I steal glances, wondering why

the absence of amity.

Yet I feel only peace.

Everything dissipates.

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