Before I start you need to understand something; I was high at the time.
I was high when I said your name.
I was high when I though about the way you walked.
I was high when I fell in love with your lips.
I was sober when I tried to let you walk away.
Before I finish you need to understand something; I was high.
You were a drug and I was an addict.

Did she make you happy?
Did you ever learn her name?
You knew her outside, you knew her inside.
You knew her thoughts, you knew her feelings.
You laughed with her, you cried with her.
You held her hand.
You raised a storm inside of her.
You really, really ****** her up.
Which isn't always a bad thing.

Did you ever look through her eyes?
Did you ever see her through her own eyes?
If you did, would you really have called her names?
You loved her, you really did,
and every day you put her down.

Do you know that you hurt her?
I don't think you do.
You always put her interests first, you were always by her side.
You always told her how important she was.
You always made her happy, you always made her smile.
You always made her love herself.
(As much as she could, under the circumstances.)

Did you try?
Look at me and tell me that you tried.
Tell me that dragging her through the ground and destroying her piece by piece helped.
Tell me she deserved it.
Now look me in the eyes and tell me why exactly she couldn't show her face.
Tell me why you wouldn't let her show her face.

You were nothing short of perfect.
You told her that you were there to help, and you really were.
You supported her, let her blossom.
A true flower, with you as the sunlight that let her bloom.
She was always growing, she still is.
With you by her side, maybe she'll be grown one day.
Maybe the world will learn her name.
Maybe one day.

Yes, it's all quite confused.
You were everything she needed.
They all were.
She could never find words strong enough to thank you, she told me so herself.

You royally ****** her up, you broke her.
You made her hide.
Yet you were the one who wanted, no needed the world to see her.

Now, explain something to me:

What did you expect to achieve when you never even stopped to ask her name?

Hardly a day goes by that I don't see you, hear you, breathe you. Not a day goes by that I don't create you.
Joyfully, I create these glances, touches and feelings that are so real, yet so surreal.
I know you better than I know myself; I know you without as much as a hello.
You are mere footsteps away, across an ocean of hopeful feelings.
Such hopelessly hopeful feelings.
Hardly a day goes by that I don't let you exist.
In whatever way that existence may be.

I never truly understood how difficult it was to sleep with a monster living under your bed.

The footsteps, growing ever louder and more intense each moment, as they would pave their way into my head.

You had friends; big men in big coats or little women with big voices; always accompanied by that sickeningly blue light.

It was like the pop of a balloon, but nobody smiled and there was no way anybody would inflate a new one.

Inflate you.

It was like a dog; one of the big ones that you knew I was intimidated by, but at least their bark truly was worse than their bite.

Your bark and your bite were one and the same.

Even still I hear you when I'm trying to get on with life and somebody drops a glass, but where was the sweeping brush that could clean up your mess?

Naturally, we couldn't shake you. There wasn't a mark on my body that I could use against you.

Not on my body.

There were children. They were children, forced to grow up too quickly at the hands of a cruel master.

Power is a delicate thing that I tried so desperately to hold as a shield, but how could my paper shield be put against your silver sword?

It's funny how things change, and how they don't.

It's funny how you can sit and laugh and make me wonder what if the monster comes back.

It's funny how I wake up in the morning and wonder; am I allowed to live today?