lost, my enemy

lost, my enemy

I'll put
the torch to your pyre anyway.
(we're all in the mood
for an auto de fe)
but where will i go
when the cold north wind
blows your ashes past the
crossroads

for so long i defined
myself against you, you're
gone and i'm falling over
loose, rolling awkward,
aimless, sideways, backwards

and i'm so angry (bent over
nursing it for all it's
worth) that even years after
i'm deformed, a you-shaped
hole burnt through

but when the cinders have gone
out where will I go, what
should I do?

you've left me lonely
here without my
hate for you.