Harboured Lust

My thirst for you

is growing cold,

as I see you

looking, so terribly old.

The man I once knew,

is now, all but

a ghost of you.

The flawlessness of your skin

has sunken within,

leaving patches of grey

to take its place.

I cannot bare

to look at your face.

So leave if you must

or stay if you please,

the nights are too long

for silence to continue.

My thirst for you

has turned to hatred

and that’s nothing new.

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