For all that you are, I have been

as a thorn in your side

while you suffered

and this is my gift in exchange

for a love i no longer desire

i will be in embraces as acid

slowly rotting the flesh of your 

plans

until all that is left is a sad smoky smell

slipping to strangle what’s left

long nights you held on in my spite

as i edged and etched edges in you

discomfort and ugly

in hatred, disdain

that you saw but through fool’s rosy glow

never good enough, but best

never good enough, but yours

never good enough, but all of your future

you rested on me like the world upon Atlas

and perhaps it is time now to shrug.