Do not remember me well, for I do not know myself so;
There is a sickness within me of which I cannot let go.
Do not look upon me kindly, my eyes are prone to harden;
I tend to green over my neighbours’ gardens.
Do not be tender to me, I cannot treat myself as such;
My quills are all I have, thank you very much.
Do not praise me, my trail is measured in graves.
I proceed like a funeral, back towards my cave.
Do not lend me your ear, for my pride won’t let me speak;
This life spent adrift has made me wary of each leak.
Do not draw nearer, the air here is foul;
Cologne is no mask for the stench in my scowl.
Do not give me the time of day, I only entertain at night;
I am all the rage when alone and out of sight.
Do not place your faith in me, for I haven’t the space;
My words make water but I am the shepherd of disgrace.
Do not love me, for I am a whore;
I seldom need a bed, but I always flirt with the door.
Do not want me. Do not need me. I am of no worth.
He who was born wrong cannot live away his birth.
Do not shed tears for me, for I have none to return;
Rain cannot douse that which is determined to burn.
Do not spend anything on me, I shan’t be grateful;
But I’ll conspire till your spring lasts from May through April.
Do not be thick with me, I am a cheat and a thief;
Sure, I would paint for you more than a single leaf.
Do not take any pride in knowing me, I aspire and fail;
But I’d surrender my breath for wind in your sail.
Do not think, despite it all, me gentle, for you are wrong;
Though, I concede a smile whenever you come along.
Do not remember me well, for I do not know myself so;
Just remember me until you can let go.
