Sometimes the pain is so great
That there is only sleep
Or no sleep.
Nothing else exists.

Sometimes the loneliness is so vast
That solitude is punishment and also recompense to yourself
For all you have not done.

Sometimes the emptiness is an echo
That soothes.

Sometimes the only words your lips can form
Are “No more.”

The silver dagger dangled.
The silver dagger plunged.
Wiped without a trace
Of blood.

Love is a stranger
And when she knocks,
She finds she has come
To the wrong door

After filling my heart
With her lies.

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