I know my corner well, where the darkness veils just enough to make it welcoming but not isolated. Yet you have tainted this dreamspace, my abode of late. You came in with your dirty feet and tarnished my minute trappings, ripping my small works of art into shreds, demanding I confess to my wrongdoing. I have done no wrong except in acknowledging you for who you were not. I have known much misery by you, have known sadnesses a thousand feet deep in the blackness of the ocean. My melancholy siphons from one vein to another, flowing through the circuitry of my being, molding what I have become. I wish these sentiments on no one, as none deserves such wretchedness, such tightening of happiness. You are a cruel and dirisive being. May you find chaos in your hubris. There is no love left to share with you, for you have misused me too many times to bear. My heart has run dry, and I wish nothing but turmoil in your shortfalls. Perhaps somewhere at the end of your time you may find the acute and immeasurable pangs of self awareness dawn on every reprehensible fiber of your existence and only then may you go in a silent but fleeting moment of quietus. May your trappings haunt you like a disinterested ghost. You have no home here. Be gone before I set the wolves on you once more.