She demanded love
used it like a crutch
to prop herself up.
Much of my anxiety
vanished in smoke
cremated along with her corpse
nothing to fear from the dear departed.
Now she sends phantoms
from beyond the grave
specters I myself must summon
out of my own mind.
Don’t give it a thought
don’t get caught
singing arias amid tombstones
having whistled away the fear.
Though she comes in many guises
I’d know that face anywhere
I see her in the mirror often enough.
No recognition without repetition
the muck stops here.
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