Just let me ramble

Who do you think you are, we all have scars on our heart, being mended in some many different ways.

So what gives you the right to rip threw my twisted misery.

How about instead you bring me a bottle of the best regret. These memories need some help tonight finding a place in my head.
Anything having something to do with this creates internal dialog an argument between two half’s of the same whole.

Every place is haunted if not by the dead then by the living.