Shitty poem time:
Apocalypse
Like any boyfriend, you are obedient
And fictitious. I blink my eye,
Film after film after PV and image,
I replace them reaffirming your faux
Presence in my life, day after day.
You're pretty good, as far as boys go,
But the middle man in the charade
-Glory! Halleluiah! Salvation! Amen!-
Belongs to me and like the hydra
I am, never dies, grows new head, begins again.