It was a lifetime ago the last time I told her I loved her. Now she hates me and I am apathetic about her. You see the muscles that loved her atrophied with that last catastrophe that crashed our relationship into the sand of some foreign forgotten fiefdom far from away anywhere I like to remember. I saw your pictures today, looking for decorations. It was a lifetime ago, before the diagnosis, before the pills, when every emotion killed me. I am struck seeing your stills. I see the girl I once loved. The girl who lied about the smallest things and those that mattered most. You were my host to a gateway of self-destruction. Leading a little christian boy to spit filth like breathing, all the while deceiving me at every turn. I had five months with you, but a lifetime of guilt. It’s not all your fault. You are just a ball of hate. With a lust for lying you will never saite. I’m only happy that you were the stepping stone for something so great.