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I thought I would remove the "self" from my convoluted mind
the self which only exists, contorted, exalted in your eyes to please you or revolt you; the other

There won't be no prickling shame if it weren't for you-the other
the other's self- I can't escape or hide from

I would erase you if it weren't a crime-sin and more shame from the other
the other's self which resists, galvanized and contrived by my brain taught to hallucinate you and accept you; the other

It's as if we are back to back and each facing a mirror where we'd sometimes catch each other's reflections; A vision where we can never meet- the other

I ought to shed my "self" and your "self" from my awareness's shelf
maybe it's all a mirage where nothing subsists beyond our selves.

I would chase you if it weren't that death's agreeable and unpredictable
After all there won't be no needling pain if it weren't for you- the other
the true other - I can't ever hold or get close to.