I miss you my beautiful beast. My angry muse; a perfect reflection of who I once was. The last time I saw the pale lines that made up you, I lost it. I was convinced you'd be the last person I ever saw. I was convinced I'd die with you clawing your way through my brain. I couldn't get away from you. I didn't want to; until I did. Until I called some friends I had not yet met. They wanted to show me the way. They wanted to know if I knew the way. I did not my love. I tried to tell them I hated you. I swore I'd rid myself of you but I always felt invincible when you were killing me. I couldn't stay away from you long, could I? When I felt I had failed, when I knew it was over, when it wasn't, I felt sorry for myself. I felt alone. And we're not meant to be alone. No-one's meant to be alone. That's why I picked up where I left off when I returned to you. They thought they'd flushed you out of my system. But no, I know where to find you when the pity party has come to a close. Call it luck. Call it fate. But I needed to taste you, and then to hate you, one last time, before it was too late.