creature of habit

I am a creature of habit, and I am easy to find. 
Everyone knows my address, 
                          down Memory Lane, 
          to the left a bit, 
in your childhood home. I crouch,
like an unsightly raven, 
in the places where you used to go for 
quiet. 
You can find me here, 
                         chewing on yellowed ticket stubs 
         and pages from your journal, 
grinding picture-frame glass between my teeth, 
and wearing the faces 
of your dead. 
I lurk in the water under the bridge,
murky-green 
with overgrowth and poison, with the scarlet of old blood under my nails. 
You are not easy to find. 
You move and change and leave things 
behind. 
So - I will not come looking for you. You needn’t fear my grinning, rotted teeth. 
But I am easy to find. And you all come looking for me, eventually.
And some of you never leave.