To you, I owe my gratitude,
oh wonderful one
for gifts of hurt, pain, and oppression.
A hundred thanks
for being a blotch
on my stainless life.
Your presence taunting,
presenting words lined with poison.
Memories of you haunting,
murdering me from within.
My murmured plea silenced,
escape becomes a distant dream.
The end, I fear not.
I fear only this madness
of what it will make of both you and me.
If only my ruin,
I would give pardon
but you are a magnet to madness,
a naïve tormentor
to my ruined mind,
What have you become?
No, not friend to foe, but friend to fiend,
you murderer…that’s what you are,
my beloved murderer.