O Apollo

O Apollo,
Why must you confuse me for a nymph?
You chase after me,
Lust in your eyes,
But you turn into a narcissus flower when I cut my hair.
I'm only a reflection in the pond that you chase after.
You're pride.
You're vanity.
Even Artemis was better at the hunt and knew better than to let love in. 
What must I do so you don't drown? 
Must I disappear? 
Must I show you that it's your reflection?
Stop the chase.
I'll never cave and break the glass.
O Apollo, 
See me not as a nymph 
But as a nymph and satyr. 

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