...I hope you come down with something they can't diagnose, don't have the cure for...

Everything comes down to you. Over and over, I trace my hatred back to fifteen years ago, a child's innocent words that bred malice and contempt. I wish I could say that I could die happy knowing I took you with me. But dying is the easy way out. I want to watch you suffer. I want to watch you waste away in fear, your skin sliding off of your body, your blood falling like rain. I want to watch you drown in sorrow so thick you can taste it on the tip of your tongue.

I never turned you in. I wish I had taken you out while I still had the fury to do so. The flame is still there, but it is barely an ember.

...at least pretend you didn't want to get caught...

One thousand, seven hundred, thirty four days ago, I left. I felt such freedom, getting on that plane, flying over the miles that would separate me from you. Running never felt so good. I thought it was over. I thought I had won.

But I haven't. You're still in my head. Every day, every decision I make, is made by you. The memory of you. The stain you left on my psyche wont go away. I thought I could ignore it. But you're still here. Five years. Five years I've let you rule my life. Let the memories of what you've done to me control me like a fucking puppet. You're under my skin, and no matter how much I drink, how much I bleed, how thin I get, you're still there. In my bones. I gave in to you. I let you have me. I don't know how to take it back.

I don't know how to take my life back because I never had it to begin with. I was four when you came into my life. Sixteen years ago. I've been told that my first words to you were "You're not my daddy, I don't have to listen to you." I wouldn't put it past me. I always was a willful child. Until you took away my will. You turned me into a quivering, pathetic, sobbing blob. I was nothing. And until I can erase you from my brain, I will be nothing.

...Every line is about who I don't wanna write about anymore...