Walking Ruins

And when I break her heart,
She will look at me in despair
With excruciating pity,
And hate you.

And I, hating my part
In her anguish, but unable to air
My innermost thoughts, me,
Heavily cocooned.

I will wish, as I often do
That she had succeeded to wash you off my skin
To rinse you out of my mouth,
And as I often do
I will retreat into that quiet corner in my mind
That corner created by you