Limbo

You need to stay the hell out of my dreams, you little shit.

You think you're so smooth slippin' in when you think I'm not looking, sliding your arm around my shoulder, and acting all cool, as if you'd been there the whole time.

But it's not cool. I'm pissed off. You can't just disappear completely without even a good-bye, or at least a final, departing nod and wink. You can't waltz out, as if you never knew me, never call, never ask about me, never send me as much as a "hey, sup?" And then mosey around in my dreams all night.

I didn't invite you in there, you asshole. I don't know what you're trying to prove when I catch you beside me, giving me that look, that grin, that sigh. Never fight. Never argue. Never start any wars. What fun is that? If you're going to hang around all night, the least you could do is make it interesting.

I think it would have been better if you'd at least tried to be ugly, tried to be mean, tried to put some closure on it. Instead of letting it linger there on the edge, never pushing it over...