Head intoxicated.  There's something I shouldn't see, something I shouldn't approach, something I shouldn't do.  If it is my mind which lusts, then why is it my eyes that burn?  My eyelids are useless.  The light still hurts. 

 

Denied.  Deprived.  Your familiar shadow still stands beside me, yet, as a stranger, warns me.  The pain once given to you now echoes back within me.  Because of your past now my future lies in a shambles.  It remains within me to be passed on, and infect the unsuspecting virgin.

 

But it stops here.  Self-inflicted deprivation.  I won't pass on to her the buzzing in my mind that betrays the blood-stained violence that you once bathed in. 

 

Too weak to live your pain alone, you inflicted it upon others.  Your life doesn't seem so miserable when you have the satisfaction that you have made someone else's life a tormented existence.

 

But I won't let you.  If you think you'll continue to live on inside my mind, you've chosen a dwelling of thorns.  Though a great distance separates us, you have chosen to live too intimately with my thoughts. 

 

You will not get passed on into my new life.  You will die when I move on.