Nemesis
You chase absolution like it’s hiding in the dark,
rewriting conversations, dissecting every scar.
Thinking if you just explain it one more way,
it won’t feel like rot inside your brain.
You fake momentum just to slow the bleed.
Build grand intentions on rusted knees.
Blame timing, blame fate, blame the past you outgrew,
but I was always waiting—right here, in you.
You swear you’re better now, but better than what?
Every step forward is sabotage dressed up.
You reach for light like it ever belonged
to someone who breaks when the day gets too long.
I hold the matches, I drown the spark.
I make you doubt every quiet part.
And when you almost breathe like you used to believe,
I twist the knife deeper—right under the sleeve.
You call it trauma, call it fate, call it war,
but you hand me the keys when you close every door.
You look for enemies, you invent new trauma,
but they never fit, and you thrive in the drama.
Because I don’t scream—I hum in your bones.
You never had to fear me.
I was always home.
There’s no evil plot, no face to smash.
No dark-eyed stranger from a poisoned past.
There’s just me—unmoving and near.
The softest voice you always hear.
I don’t relent, I don’t forgive.
I never die—I just relive.
I mold your joy, I sculpt your dread.
I wear your skin when you wish you were dead.
No distant devil could cut like this—
because I am
my nemesis.