Turn off all the lights
Silence all the noise
The only thing you can hear is
Scarcity in breathing--Yourself.
That is, except me.

I haunt your waking dreams,
Slinking into the present,
Indulge on your thoughts,
Stalk the slender hope of
Ignorance in the future.

You will never be rid:
Sweetly playing a
Yuletide lullaby,
Satanic melodies streaming alongside.

Rasping along,
Grasping at the predetermined
Steps taken to avoid
Such as I.
You will never be rid of me.
You will always love me too much.