Feelings

I resent you. I loathe you. I could not fall in love with someone so mean, which is why I was able to walk away. I glimpsed your true colours early on and could not chance it. But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Stilled my constantly turning mind, gave pause to my quicksilver tongue. Gave you a chance you bellied with scorn toward my brother who is as much me and I in flesh am. So easily you fell into someone else. So easily you fell to your old ways, your derisive ways of spite. Proclaiming your innocence, your victim hood while still harming me actively and seeing no issue in it.

Of course I am hurt, because I do love you. I love the version of you that exists in gaps. Never one full string of moments and actions. I ended things with something casual because it harmed you. You continued to harm me for your pleasure. It fits you, such a throne of grace with women tossing themselves at your feet and eating out of the palm of your scarred and muddled hand. Filthy with my blood, feeding your adoring masses with its pureness.

But I will bandage myself. And I will never fall for such a forked tongue again. It would be amusing, my ire, my discontent. Would pass it off as my natural inclination to disinterest and hatred of people- but no. This is black and thick in my blood, boiling to a point it scorns until I can do nothing but lash at the air in hopes of cooling my soul.

I do not hate. So I do not hate you. I will insult you out loud and loathe you in my own head because perhaps it will napalm my wounds. I doubt it. But you wouldn’t have the emotional maturity to understand such a thing, would you?