Who is that ******* man that keeps poking his ugly head in my room?
Saying my name like he knows me.
I imagine seeing a face when I came out of the womb; a hairy face with glasses just under his forehead.
That was my Dad.
This ******* man, coming in my room.
Who are you?

There’s plenty of fish in the sea,
but there ain’t no love for me.

Not now, go away.  
So dark, and today I'm actually enjoying myself.
Take your ugly mug elsewhere, I'm tired of that cloud you drag along.

You’re there, where my brain is supposed to be
scratching at the insides of my skull like a mouse in a box
and it’s really annoying, I’m trying to force you out.
I’m going through the closet, I find a hanger and unwind its stubborn neck.
I know you feel it coming, you start scratching harder, faster,
I stick it into my ear and dig until it turns bright red and I feel you sinking
out of my nostrils.
And when you’re gone, I’ll take a nap.

I visit you in the night during the moon, as I can see you are restless.
                                
Tossing
                   and
                                Turning

Because your bones ache.

I subtly stroke the strands of white hair barely covering your spotted scalp.
                                
Dying
                                   and
                                Decaying

After being here for so long.

Find comfort in the fact that when your bones are swallowed by the earth, I will renew them.
                                
Fresh
                                 and
                                Familiar

To make you feel young again.

I am not from the vapor clouds, nor am I from the heart of the earth.  
You will never see me.
You will never know me.
And when you are born anew, I will leave you.

So rest those old bones in that catafalque of cloth.
Unwrap your skin and let me take them.