Tuesday, October 24, 2006

You are like a virus spreading a chronic sickness into an already weakened body, sucking on the little strength it has left from all the blood it has shed over the years. You don't feel sorry for anything and it disgusts me the way you can smile like a little boy with a new toy after all the pain you've caused. You make me so angry sometimes I feel like I could stab you twenty times in the heart and feel relieved seeing your last breath make its way through your airways and out of your mouth. I wouldn't regret it. I loathe your arrogance and your ignorance. You are scum to me. You are trash. You don't even deserve words, you don't deserve recognition.

And I try and try and try to convince myself that I shouldn't think of you, miss you, want you, need you. And I try to forget and try to choke every single happy thought I have about you. I want to hate all of your little gadgets, your hobbies, your customs, your culture, your stares and your scents. I try to hate all the harshness in your words, the cruel veracity of your speeches, the sadness of you confessions. I try to hate your limp eyes, your sarcastic smile and your ironic comments. I try to hate everything I ever loved about you.

But I can't.

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