I will not pine for parasites today. Nor tip my hat, towards such domain. Loss of hope, is redemption for those of us who conquer lovers through shaky flows. Oh, I'm not done yet. I'll bleed out every ounce of this crushing regret. Fill the bucket to the brim, before I fall to such demise again. Every sip I ever took of him, regurgitating through my pours of oddly sin. Crowded whispers plague my mind. Screeching that, in due time. I'll find a way to end these rhymes. I'll change my heart, I'll refuse from the start...these walls of sighs still stand for me. Protecting me from the very likes, of such parasitic fleas...

-HMG