Sil Hattaavah

I need to be your obsession
Your unrivaled, exclusive lady
Your treasured possession
Desperate to be your only

Descending is my spirit
I feel so bitterly isolated
I am unacceptably deficient
And this isn’t lightly stated

Sufficient I know I am not
Destined to be eternally lifeless
All comfort and pride is lost
This agony feels like an illness

Oh what a revolting likelihood
I’ve become empty and unnecessary
Or maybe this is where I’ve stood
Being buried beneath an ugly tree

This dirt is so cold and wet
My tears turning it to mud
The silence loud, like a roaring jet
I fear i will not again glimpse the sun

Every action is counterproductive
I am nothing but despicable
Maybe I should just give in
And disappear in this hole

Originally Written March 20, 2012
Copyright @ 2012 Sil Hattaavah