by Christine McKeever

i hate her

the witch burned beneath my flesh

dissolving into my blood stream

absolving my affections

she is a part of me now forever

screams inside of me

bleeding internally-eternally

she’s seen only the eclipsed spectre of my forgotten wisdoms

she festers

i can never reclaim my reflection

she brings submission and flames

the vanquishing of my smiles

as obscurity triumphs

she is me after all is extracted

smoldering ashes of stale life

leaving me to pick up the withered remains

it’s always someone else’s veracity

crying, crippled in the somber tones of dusk

she’s the only one who cares

her death offers me a new skin

a ghost i cannot endure

with ninety-nine tracks and mystery lacking