Come down 

And waste away with me

---

You signed up for this, haven’t you?

I can’t recall the last time we met, but I’m sure you have.

Yes, I’ve become the psycho psycho-maniac with a psychotic psyche, I know.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends…

After all, you started this. 

All your grandstanding left you a pretty penny, hasn’t it?

Never left you an ounce of compassion, though.

Now, all of the horses and all the king’s men can’t put this egg back together again.

---

And now

I know you’ve always been

Out of your head

---

You’ve never shown anything, given anything.

Just wanted everything

And so you got it all, all but one.

I’m just giddy that I finally get to deliver.

You remember that day, don’t you?

Our roles were reversed then, how funny is that?

I saw too much, said too much, had too much

Why wasn’t I the one who went away?

I still remember.

---

Out of her head

Out of her head

She sang

---

My prodigy, my crème de la crème, my life’s joy

And I had just too much, didn’t I?

My detriment, largest terror of the masses, my life’s ruin.

That day…

Why didn’t you just kill us both?

At least, my beloved daughter will still live on.

Shame to say that you won’t.

After all, you’re hated by many more than just me

So, listen to the last words you’ll ever hear:

The same ones you said to her.

---

The innocent can never last.

Disclaimer: This story is not indicative of anything occurring in the author’s life. Any symptoms that erupted from reading this story including, but not limited to: fright, confusion, awkwardness, and general disappointment are not the author’s fault. You were the one who clicked on this blog post. Further progression of these feelings will warrant a trip to the local psychologist for consulting or to the author to berate for creating this far cry of a story. Thank you for clicking on this post, I’m sorry for making you read this, and have as good of a day as you can after reading such a catastrophe.