I hate what you've become, changed into. I hate how your the exact depiction of what you hated merely months ago. I hate that I miss you and that you still have that scent you always have but now it's merely covered by something I can't quite describe, but it lingers like a constant reminder that you have morphed into something unreliable, distant. I hate that I still feel responsible for everything you've done, and the guilt trip lay heavily upon my shoulders. I hate that I can't seem to shake you, or that when you open your arms, out of habit, I crawl into them. Fading into the aura of blackness where you can manipulate control and leave me in wonder of how I feel so fucking powerful one second, yet scared and alone the next Basically, you've changed into something that's dark and disruptive. And I miss the old you and I know I shouldn't. And I hate myself for it.