I spent years with poor circulation nerve ends strangled in abject agony, following your insanity while blaming myself for the way you obeyed your rage, but I might be getting a little bit better. I might be a little less bitter.
I spent years on fire like a burning house seeing every optimistic inch of me defeated and incinerated by your incessant nagging, and jack slapping. Till, I nearly choked trying to breathe easy. When it took two swallows to catch my anxious breath, one gulp then halfway down another gulp so, I didn't drown in my own saliva.
Now my freedom is a bitter sweet symphony and though others insist, I do not need you to be in my life, do not need the present or even the slightest hint of past strife to be happy and complete.