I wish I'd never had the opportunity to know these things about you
To know how thoroughly you drained my hope and haunted my dreams
To know accomplishment sans the anger my thoughts of you still generates
And consequent guilt such hatred endows so heavenly laden with shame
Oh, the little blessings you thought you had given me
Oh, the goodness of one who cares so much
The tea of your fruit has become a rancorous, bitter brew
Yet I can only say I knew what I only knew
No, this does not make me your prisoner, your high priestess of pain
I am freedom, but still I know, I shall never be the same