The Wolves Howling In My Head

Tarnished

Everything I look at has been smeared.
Tarnished so that when seen,
I can only think of you.

I look at my passenger seat,
I imagine you there after bowling.
Sleepy, contented, happy.

I see the necklace you made me,
In place with my others,
Perverting even my own religion.

The sounds I hear have been polluted.
Distorted so that when heard,
I can only think of you.

Blackbird had always hurt,
But when you sang it,
I could hear it without ache.

Singing even alone is a pain.
Because singing is what you do,
And my voice was once for you.

Sleep has be destroyed.
Unrestful when attempted,
I can only think of you.

I look at my beds,
And I am afraid to rest,
Because I long for your touch.

I finally drift to sleep,
But I toss and turn.
Because I dream of you–

A broken person,
Who broke a perfect thing,
And ruined a man,
With once perfect vision.