You. The space you've occupied in my mind has grown rather weary. Evicted, you left behind a stench which spread to my heart and soul.
Now unfit for occupation, I remain stagnant because you have contaminated this temple and they can smell your presence.
Maybe I was a lousy land lord, I let you in and now you don't want to leave but inside you I hardly breathe.
Me. A complete mess. There are certain words I need to hear from you, words that will either break me, or set me free.
