I guess lifting curses this heavy is beyond the realm of possibility. It is too strong a punishment to bare for what I have done. Perhaps not in this life, or reality, but another. And I am only ever sorry, because it is all I ever can be. I want to be what is wanted. But I am not. Every slip of the tongue tells me so. My dusty heart will no longer beat without the anticipation of an equal or faster response. My soul is only comfortable intertwined in your arms. So when it is lost or left alone it falters and breaks leaving a vicious demon in its wake. There are few who realize that I am cursed. And I can only be sorry for it. The night swallows me. It hurts me. I overthink I tell myself the worst is true, I make pain my only reality and I am cruel. When I begin to panic is when mean phrases hiss out of my mouth. I am sorry. I need to be held to keep the demon away. To keep the soul in place. When every fiber of my being grasps for every fiber of yours..