I love you still, somehow.

I am unsure why at this point.

How do you look in the mirror without smashing it with your fist?

That would be an honest action at least.

You who have forgotten the taste of truth on your tongue.

I repeat my phrasings.

I mix my metaphors freely.

I cry tears for you when the sun goes down.

You have a sealed heart,

a glacier in your chest where solar storms once leveled cities and devastated heathen nations.

You are an imbecile and drool on your blouse.

I used to love you purely.

I was banished and vanished.

Do you see how the words connect?

 

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