Loathing (10/07)

I am a thing to be loathed

so easy to do

when I am all clothed

in the blackest

of my thoughts


I am the mistress of night

though hated

by her at the very sight

of my tears

and my blood


She laughs and taunts

and I weep

she scares and haunts

and I scream

but nobody hears


I can try to flee

from her

But she is me

I don't get far

before coming back

To be loathed some more.