Ode To A Proprio d'Hochelaga.

There is nothing that you could do
that would ever make up for you,

no words you can say that I could believe.

There is no way you could be truly happy inside.
I pity you and see through your enlightened lies.

There were times the fear for your child ran chills up my spine,

and times when I thought "that's where a daemon resides".

The walls and floor shook with your voice and I was scared for you.

I prayed you'd find your place and something good may happen to you.

Nothing happened...you continued. You screamed, you spat and cursed, 
and I left, finally, and then somehow you found a way to come back worse.

Sniveling, intimidating and prying and gaming your way back into my mind. 

All to get some more ca$h...to profit of me, a scam, a trap, a lie.

A long time I waited...

Hating what you had done to me, to them, to those.

Hating what you had made me feel. What I had become. 
The rage, the anger, the anxiety, the fear of myself.

You see I had turned into you in some way. 
That monster I knew was there.

That scared monster full of fear and self doubt.
However...

There is nothing you could do
that would ever make up for you.

I am a better, smarter, stronger 
and wiser person now,

thanks to you.

I have realized how nasty life can be,

thanks to you.

And how those dogs snarl, like you did,

those dogs never appreciate the love they were given.

Those dogs lay next to themselves and lie and whine

and snap at every hand, eventually, after a certain time.

I used your hate to reform my mind.

I will try my hardest to forget you

as you must be forgotten, not forgiven.
Not now.
Maybe.
Maybe never...Ever...

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