again and again.

as you drink poison

you kill your enemy

but i drink no poison

and you are no enemy

but a pariah i seem

an infection has infiltrated my heart

a disease with no cure

except my expulsion

from your presence

your heart

and our friendship

i sink in my confusion

but not in regret

the cure is not attractive

or understandable

to you and your sensibilities

but there is no other answer

then the hand i now hold

blindsided?

maybe

inevitable?

always

so here is your time

and space

don't be what i fear

because my choice will not change

i would chose this disease

again

and again

and again

and so would you