Agony. Red hot and tangible. At just the sight of you how it rises drastically. And sadly, There’s nothing I can do to escape you, copying my every move, following me into every room, I’m disgusted by every sight of you. 

So how ironic that actually, I’m the only one you’re visible to no matter who you stand next to, they all just see right through. Picasso couldn’t paint shapes this irregular. Lopsided curves, sharp cuts, and swerves. Yet everyone else thinks you’re regular, you’re a demon somehow secular. 

I hate everything about you in private or public, you run my mind like a dictator calling it a republic. Whenever you’re given any privilege to my mind, you always obstruct it, and still, I’m told how you can be trusted.

No matter how many times I tear you apart, rip you to shreds, cut out your heart, you always build back stronger. To be honest, I don’t know how much longer I can handle you, so here I ponder what I must know to make a friend out of a foe, how to make a protector out of my biggest tormentor. 

I hate you, I’ll preach it, even sing. Yet I’m screaming at a mirror because you and I are the same being.