I've been seeing ghosts again,
They've been playing in plain sight.
I become rigid,
And I lose my fight.
Just when I think
I'm finally through;
I find myself in another spicy memory,
Of the hell that happened to be you.
I long to forget your face,
Long to forget your name.
I long to forget every ounce,
Of all that bottled pain.
Just when I think,
That I'm all better;
I lose my composure,
And forget how to keep myself together.
Six months later,
Yet I still have the panic attacks.
Sometimes it makes you wonder,
How long this lasts.
It never seems like
I've done much healing.
Especially in the way
That you've left me reeling
They say that time heals all,
But they didn't know you.
You were Satan,
With your firey hoops.