You are so kind
to my wounds
soothing.

I need you to maintain
my selfish habits
above anything else.

Why are you still alive?
Rebel! Go on and die!
Where are your mold and rot
for me to consecrate?

If I feed you enough times
after half your appendages have gone
will you forgive me?

Will it really be forgiveness?
Will sorry have meant anything?

I am sorry,
I did not mean to destroy you.
I thought I’d killed you long ago.

What did you go holding on for?