Like the venom from a Recluse injected into my very soul, the memory of you eats away at me leaving nothing but a gap of what once was. Happy memories of you come as sharp knives to my chest, stabbing me over and over until I collapse under the pain. Huddled in a corner tucked away in my mind, I cry like the savagely beaten child I tried to leave in the past.
The blame of what you’ve done that you’ve tried to lay on other people won’t take this torture away. I’m not a child anymore, and I’m not as easily fooled. I know why I was abused by someone now, and it wasn’t because of why you said it was. They were sick. Sick like me. Like me, you tarnished their reputation because it was so easy to do. All you had to do was lightly whisper about my mental issues to someone, they would blindly nod and walk away.
People tell me to leave it in the past, and that would be easy if the past I didn’t create wouldn’t come back to haunt me later. That would be easy if the impression I didn’t make on people about myself didn’t still stick to them like glue. That would be easy if their habit of doing this was broken… And it eats me alive.