Sorcery

I'm a sorceress -- I know how to conjure misery from happiness,
Ruin every happy memory I have ever had for your sake...
And you don't think of me. I have enlisted legions of demons
To bring you to your knees, to make you shout for me
As I turn a deaf ear to your direction, so that you may know my misery.
I'm a witch as true as arrows hit their intended marks,
And in my potions and brews I have hidden parts of me,
Parts you may never again see or touch or know about,
But you don't think of me.
On my bed sits my familiar, a demon most obscure,
And at his feet lay the crumpled bodies of mine enemies.
Although this master thief is powerful, he's powerless with me,
Never quite within the grasp to pull my demons out.
And I am a sorceress, ripping happiness from everything,
Writhing in my misery, my milky, poisonous regret
And I am nothing but a slave to mine own blackened soul.
In the darkness I will raise up demons, their forked tongues
Reminding me of what once was and will never again be...
And on my knees I beg them to turn a blind eye to my misery.
I feed them with my blood and let them shout their complaints,
But you don't think of me.
And though I fight to keep them in my arms' reach,
They rip open the stitching to the wounds you yourself gave me,
The wounds your treacherous tongue has left upon my once untainted heart
But you do not remember me.