i feel like you were a traumatic experience in my life. thinking about you just seems to open up the wounds that were so close to healing. every photograph that i come across rips off another scab, revealing festering gashes that spill out obscenities.

you loved me. i loved you. there is no past, no future, no present. it all is what it always was, and it will continue on this way forever.

so i wonder, i wonder, i wonder, will i ever escape your clutches, or will you keep drawing me back every time i think i'm free?

by accident, it would seem, you've come up in my thoughts again. i can't remember how; it's blotted out by the pain that's searing through me now. all i can think about is how you made me leave, and then wouldn't follow. and i came back looking for you, and you were gone. and i've never been able to find you again, because you didn't ever really want me at all.

there aren't enough bandages in the world to put me back together again. there have been other men in my life, men that are better than you. smarter men, sweeter men. men that have cared for me honestly and deeply. but your touch lingers on, and it convinces me that i am not worthy.

i am not worthy of anything but your tainted embrace, and your poison hands. you are what i deserve; you putrid, shameless monster. you hide under my bed, in my closet and behind my eyes, reaching out every now and then if i get too settled in my contentness.

you are a show pony, and you parade yourself around for all to see how great and fine and undamaged you are. you are free of me. i never existed for you. but for me, you were my existence.

you were the rose bush that i sought shelter in, and you are now the crown of throns i wear upon my brow to warn off any who might come too close.

you are the reason i can't feel anymore. you have my heart, and you haven't given it back.