So where am I now?
You sent me packing;
one-way ticket on
a train of thought.
I don't know my destination
or even the station
that I got off.
And you,
with your golden hair
that you brush away
from your eyes
just like you did to me.
I know you want
to forget about me,
but I'm persistent.
(Ain't it a bitch?)
I'll haunt your days
and your dreams
and your nights of passion to follow.
Keep scratching at the surface
until you think you'e got me
because, my dear,
I'm an illusion.
Wrapped in fine linens
of dead promises,
I am a figment
of your now tortured psyche.
And I will manifest myself
in the simple knowledge
that your misery
is the sweetest revenge.

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