by Adrienne Lee Daughdrill
Remove this melancholy that drapes my soul.
Your disagreeable state made me gloomy;
My affection for you has grown unemotional
With no sense of conscience.
You tug at my heart,
You graze my face with your ill-mannered hand,
You use your mouth for encouraging lies
And your eyes program my additions.
On my knees I beg for a remedy;
You savage man, let me retire.
Understand my loathing for you
As I understand your hatred for me.
Let me go, let me be, let me deteriorate
Without your succor.