Frightening face from the past,
How I loathe to see you again.
I don’t know how to escape you,
How to live like this. My will—gone.
My mind—seeped out. My heart—melted.
You speak of the past to connect but fail to realize
It does anything but.
Please leave…
The proof of my past—Who I once
was—roaming around freely makes my skin
Crawl. I hate that you’re out there;
Why can’t you just disappear?
Why can’t my past be deleted?
Don’t make me look.
Don’t make me look.
Don’t make me look.
I can’t stand it.
I don’t want to see it.
I want to disappear.
Don’t want to acknowledge what I was.
Why can’t you all just let who I was
Die
This story is part of a collection of poems, short stories and introspective diary entries, called “Grimoire of a Weird Person II”.