"no privilege"

My thoughts of you always end up dripping on paper, dancing around trying to make since of your stupidity, your ignorance. I no longer care if you come back, I do not want you here, I wish you would stop writing in my head, I want my hands to learn a new dance besides the dance you stomped on me. A dance that is happy and not one that leaves me with two left or right feet, stumbling whenever I hear your name, or see your drunken face across the room. I wish you would go home, not the pity you live in now. Nobody feels sorry for your 30 year old excuses of your mother abandoning you as a child. We all have pasts, but we choose to make them our future in a positive way. I hope your hole has not got so deep that you are there forever, or perhaps you should stay there. Perhaps if you dig a bit further you will find the devil’s door, he needs some company and the speed you are going, he could use you. And if he decides he does not even want you, I hope God drags you in all the pain you have put others through…perhaps then life will wake you up…not for my sake, but for your own. You’re not dead yet, but you have killed yourself out of my life, your lies have kept you alive, but they have not given you a very nice name. Your name is buried in your skin; I hope you find it before death does.