Scorn This

Hell hath no fury .... or so they say

                          My heart becomes a stone on fire at
                                   the thought of you

                         My stomach churns and my skin recoils at the thought
                                   of your touch

                         Whys and what ifs replay on the back of my eyelids
                                   like a horror film I am powerless to stop

                          My desire is turned to ash in the wake of you in my life
                                    all of this you'll never know nor even care

                         So may you be haunted by the memory of me

                         May it cause you to be restless without resolve

                         May peace elude you and sleep be robbed from you
                         
                         May your touch go numb when reaching out to another