These Things

I will not fight you.
Tell them everything
that you want them to believe—

paint any picture of me as you would
as long as it makes you happy.

I have said to you before
that I will always be wrong
if it means that your are faulted
for nothing.

I am the darkness, remember?
And that, I will always be.

I have stolen your face.
I have stolen your movements.
I have stolen all the colours
that your wore—

and I cannot give them back
even if I wanted to.

But what would you have me do
in exchange for stealing my heart
and plundering my dreams—

in the same way
that you can never return them?

These things.

They will haunt me for a long time
like the dead that we visit
and speak about so fondly
yet remain only ghosts.