She

Ah… She.
The She that tortures me.
It’s like primal scream therapy
Whenever I see She.
It builds inside me,
With such raging intensity,
As to defy any notion of serenity.

It explodes within me,
And comes forth forcefully,
And I scream—
Like a lovesick banshee,
Crying shrilly,
While it escapes me,
This thing that rises so quickly
Within me
When I see
She.

She even says my name…
Its sweet melody
Filling my ears completely,
Leaking into my central cavity,
Disrupting order unnaturally,
But otherwise quite beautifully,
Until I remember one thing.
She is not speaking to me.
I am merely watching TV.

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