Picture Perfect

You’ve been gone for so long, why do you still control my life?
What gives you the right to still mess with my head
You’ve made me who I am and I can’t say that I’m proud of that
It takes a lot of effort, to not become like you
You were not the father figure, the example
That every child so desperately needs
You denied me a life of my own, it all had to be done your way
Why do I get so worked up about my past?
And can’t I see a future, with somebody else
I need to go a different way
I can’t possibly still love you?