Get out of my head. The words you say poison. I know this, and yet I can’t help but listen. A poison oh so sweet; it flows in my veins. I know you’re upset with me. I am directly disobeying you after all. However, I don’t understand why. Some part of me wonders if I only want this because you tell me it isn’t good for me, that it will end badly. That all this is a game. You say that these people I love have pacified me. You say I’m incapable of truly loving someone. But, if that’s true, why do you want me to leave so badly? I hear you now, yelling at me to leave, and yet, I don’t want to. I used to crave your return, your cold embrace while you stab me in the back. Sometimes I think I still do. To be battered and bruised and bloody once more. I crave your anger. It's sickeningly sweet. Come on darling, isn’t this what you wanted? For me to feed my desires, to give in to my indulgences? You aren’t even real. More like a flickering memory, and yet for the past month your voice has been increasing in volume. A nagging urge in the back of my head. I listened to you once, gave in, and left, just like you wanted. But I couldn’t stay away. I adore this feeling, and an old ghost isn’t going to make me give it up now.