I
try to
hate you so
the memory of you won’t
haunt me
I
imagine
your touch like
daggers on nerve endings
not to miss it so much
and
your scent…
a stink of a highly threatened
skunk to keep you from my vicinity
in
my eyes
I create your image
hideous
not to gaze when I see you
it
won’t
be long before
all signs of you are muted
and even then…
I'll. still. miss. you.