Your affection is ugly. Tyrannical.
Your allegiance lies in falsehood, imagination and memory.
Only the opposite will suffice in order to tame your immense and unfaltering tide. I fear that it is not my weak mind that needs to be changed, but my heart. You are uncouth and brash but when I close my hands into a cup I feel you like a butterfly’s wing, you are enigmatic. Your presence so brief but effect lasting, etched and ghostly.
I will deny and I will stifle, I will fade into the dancing light and flicker in your mind from time to time but amount to nothing more than a beautiful scar upon your inked and olive skin.
I was sinking to the bottom, to the depths. I clothed myself in gilded shrouds to die a lady, a princess, an apparition. The mutiny claimed my being but my soul became a vehicle for lessons.