you're always lurking in the ******* background.
in everything i do, i wonder if i'd do it different.
and it's all your ******* fault.
and i hate you for it,  but i can thank you now, too.
what you did to me that night in march is...
nothing short of obscene, nothing short of terroristic.

and it's made me who i am today, so you live on.
in the way i smile, and laugh, and cry, and shake.
in the way i smoke, and drink, and dance, and tremble.
in the way i love, and hate, and fear, and taste.
i wish you'd just leave me the **** alone.

i see you in the mirror, in the way i can't meet my own eyes.
i see you in the scars that have faded from time.
i see you in my desire to turn myself inside out sometimes.
i see you in my desire to hug and never let go.

but mostly, i hear you.
i hear you in the way i think about people, in the way i read them.
i hear you in my thought process, about who's lying in wait...
even if there's no one there, and i know it.
i hear you in the way someone screams and i start to shake.
i hear you in the way broken promises and shattered trust sounds,
over the phone at two in the morning, in sobs and snarls.

i live, breathe, and will probably die hearing you.
but i think i'm as okay with that now as i ever will be.
so please, just. just go away.
i'm so tired of you being here.

i'm so sick of carrying you with me.
in my head, in my heart, in my body.
in my ******* soul.