You are small, a tiny little man with a too-big ego and a volume problem.
Yet somehow your insecurities choke you when I speak, whispering "incompetent" so the word echoes around in your brain until you think I said it.
The first to leave said it best. We are in a cycle of abuse and only walking away can break it,
so my hands are up, resignation in, last day worked, and even after I have backed away, I hear you blaming me for your mistakes again.
Put the words in my mouth, and I might as well say them.
You're bad at your job, Joshy-boy, and I am sleeping soundly again in my freedom from you.