"Even the devil was once an angel."

What do people see in me?

Why do people stay?

Why does he?

No, I may not be a horrendous beast, but I am cursed with something I don't want to spread.

You don't know me.

Maybe you do.

Maybe that scares me more than it does you.

What do people see in me?

Why do people leave?

Why doesn't he?

I don't understand.

Maybe this is a dream which no one wants to wake from, and I am the nightmare that puts you in a cold sweat. Then he walks in and blurs that image of me. 

And I no longer see the old me anymore.