you lit a fire.

you thought it

would have no consequences.

you seem to have misconceptions

like this often.

the spark landed on a fuse

that snaked around my ankles

and caused an explosion

of plaster and glass,

of minutes and seconds,

of memory and

predictions of the future.

but the first thing to go?

my heart.

and without my heart

only anger remains,

bright and burning.

this explosion,

this retaliation

is only the

start.

you took my heart,

now i'll take yours.

an eye for an eye,

a tooth for a tooth,

existence for existence.

my end is your end.

i'm sorry it has to be this way.

you decided to blackout on a tuesday evening, yes that was your choice. i sobered up the moment you compared me to my mother. the next day, your cheap, russian vodka was mysteriously gone. i had no intention of telling you the truth so i told you you had spilled it all on the walk home. but really, after puking out your poison, you slumped on my bathroom floor and i wrenched the stupid bottle out of your hands. i took a shot and dumped it down the drain. you chose to be an asshole and i chose to act in a way that disassociated myself from my mother. not sorry.