My true Love, old poem remembered…

My True Love, Revision 1.1
© Andrè M. Pietroschek, all rights reserved

She claimed, with fiercest insistence, that she is my one and only love
Her mere existence makes me doubt the sanity of our holy Lord above

The first gift she ever made me drove bone-shrapnel through my spine
To help me heal she clapped my back and claimed she’ll be forever mine

She stalked me for my lifetime, destroyed all which I had ever held dear
I am too old to break the stranglehold, and anguished too much to fear

Abusive beyond redemption, the madly sick urge that she calls her love
She helps all who tormented me to stay safely established so high above

Those decades of Bedlam’s injustice have taught & changed me quite a lot
If age wouldn’t undo me I would sure curse all, except our weird, holy God

Each day anew I face my ruined life, for my only true saint is really there
My shadow-self I melted with, so I’ll kill all who demand that I shall care