Let us compromise.
Take your lies, put them on a pedestal, and multiply that by how many feelings you've ever encountered consisting of guilt and remorse. I'll take my thoughts of you, force them down your throat and subtract the morbid and offensive reminders that were ever so conveniently escaped under lack of self control.
I think we've come to the conclusion that nothing will be as contradicting as what we've done, what you've done and how I prevailed it. Theres no escaping that I feel you under my bones when I'm falling apart. And that I see you during the deepest of inappropriate moments. And I hear you when I'm trying not to hear anything at all. And I think of you when my mind is always at its crest. It follows me straight to my escape and it will follow me straight to my grave.
C'mon, do you really think it was that easy to forget about it? Only you would see me as her. She who doesn't mind. She who enjoyed it. She who exudes satisfaction of keeping secrets. She who craved the attention. She who longed to give you nothing more than ease and happiness and passed down peaks. But I wasn't her and she wasn't me. Your confusion is what put you there and it's how you got here.
You keep my mind at an escalating fear of settlement and apathy and if I could let you out, I would.
That's not so different compared to the facts you've had under control over the years, aye?
Here's to you.