Get off my back, monkey. I do not want you: screechy, scratching, annoying, cloying little thing.
Get off and go.
You do not keep me warm. You do not offer me comfort. I'm tired of your drainage, your sly ways, your slick tricks, and your leeching. You make me itch, you make me twitch, and when you're gone I'll switch to the snug comfort self-assurance. And I will envelop myself in the ease of trust.
I will not miss your vexing nags. Things will be peaceful when you're gone, and while I stand up straighter, I will happily live here and now.
