The past

Sometimes, the past haunts you and haunts you forever.
Sometimes, the past haunts you till it becomes fear.
Sometimes, it haunts you when you are watching something beautiful.
Sometimes, it haunts you when you are lonely and most vulnerable.
Sometimes, it haunts you in one of your sweetest dreams.

Am I letting my past dominate me ?
Am I letting it scare me ?

Sometimes, I feel like cutting those hands that did this to me.
Sometimes, I feel like killing him with one gun shot through his head.
Sometimes, I feel like cutting his throat and let him bleed and put some leeches on him.

Sometimes, I feel like cutting my own wrist and bleeding till death.