flowers in empty bedroom

You’re Nothing More Than A Memory Now

You may be out of sight, but you have never left my mind. Now you are merely a fragment of a monster who overstayed its welcome in the closet of my childhood. You are but perhaps a single claw or strand of fur that was left behind. The presence of these tiny, insignificant details is the only evidence of the predator you once were.

Now there is not even a dried blood stain or a scratch against a doorframe to remember you by. The wounds may have finally healed, but nothing will ever justify all of the ways that you initially made me hurt. The scars may fade with time, but Karma will probably have to find you first.

I do not know who you think you are or what you must tell yourself just so you can sleep at night, but you are nothing now. Just something pathetic that once haunted a long-lost dream, forgotten by morning, the very second the rising sun graced my retinas with its light.

I now see you for what you really are: a burden, no longer mine to carry. You are a secret I am no longer afraid to tell. Nothing ever stays buried, but when you are, I hope you go straight to hell. I may wish a lot of things for you, but I will never wish you well.

I am not sure what brought you here to me in the first place, but it is time for you to go. It is time for you to move on, because in me you will never again find a home. You are nothing more than a fading memory of a coward, a bully, a ghost. You have no power over me, and when I finally do make a name for myself, yours will remain unknown.