Even though I shouldn't, I miss you.
And I haven't seen your face since September 30, 2008, or heard your voice since Christmas.
I need you.
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Mr. Devil-On-My-Shoulder, your presence is becoming a loud nuisance of some sorts; I'd ask for you to leave, but that may appear to be quite rude. So for now I'll settle down, and overcome your annoying voice... I think. You're complete with a pitchfork and jet black hair, and don't forget the midnight eyes.
The memories that you toss at me are countless, and I can't forget all of them even when I try. I'm in too deep - this pain you inflict refuses to register; I refuse to cry or admit defeat.
Scream at me.
Look at me with hatred.
But I know the truth.
(Love is buried underneath.)
Don't ask me how I know you. Don't ask me how or why I love you still. Your face breathes fire into my life, and causes me to scream frustration. Will there ever be a moment I don't live for you?
If only, if only, if only.
Mr. Devil-On-My-Shoulder - secretly I love your presence. So between me and you, could you stay a little while longer?
