She tugs at me now and won't let go,
	She rips my heart out of my chest and teases me with my fears.
	Yet still I don't even know her or what she wants,
		persistent, ubiquitous bitch.

	I once thought she was my mother's friend, my father's, 
			the whole world before me.

	Now I see how she only tears them all down,rips them to shreds, 
				separates me from family, self, life.
	
	I used to flirt with her, want her so badly, 
		yearn to be taken in by her, used a little, seasoned a little, 
			emboldened, experienced, loved.

	Now I see what a fool I was, just a dreaming boy 
		whose drives and passions and ideals 
			could be so easily dashed by her passing indifference,
				impertinence, deference for nothing, no one, ever.

	Yet this dream, this love, this idealized version of who I could be
		is more unfettered now, now that she and I 
			are each so equally indifferent, agreeably detached. 

	Now I better understand this pretentious ubiquitous whore, 
		who has wanted me all my life, who will never give up until she gets me.

	She'll have to share me, though, because, my friend, 
	I fully intend to live my life fully, all the way to The End 
		and make her pushy driven passion Hell in the pursuit.

	Fight me, then, if you will, Time, you scurrilous tramp.

	But I will never surrender to you, 
		no matter how much you push me, pull me, destroy me.

	You taught me young to yearn and question, always wanting more.
	Yet now I see the ruse you weave, you fake: you're just Death's Whore!