I court failure as if she were the warmest of lovers
	for she has wrapped herself around my awkward limbs
	to foster her eternal presence in my heart
	She is the all that I will never aspire to
	as well as the nothing which I have become
	And there is not a day
	when I am apart from my poison bride
	when her kisses do not fall upon my bruised cheeks
	her stain of pestilence marked upon my skin
	And yet there is something soothing around this realm which we reside in
	the comfort that comes with the cessation of change