(Written at age 14.)
Close to midnight, by lamplight I sit
Memories returning bit by bit,
Of when we were one,
When this intricately painful web of abandoning me
Around me you had not spun.
How it pricks my heart to see you with someone else;
But how much you care, your attitude tells.
You so blatantly and nonchalantly deny
To see the deeply embedded love for you that in me does lie.
You profane my love so pure.
For my hurting heart there is no cure.
No antidote for this spell of pain and hurt over me which is cast;
Save the potion of your love, which will extract me from the past,
And make me see what the future has to give,
Make me realise that you are back and that once again I can live.