Why can’t he just die?
My hatred for him,
Bubbles up and over me,
Like a foamy wrath,
Ready to swallow me whole.
I want to kill him.
Wring his neck like a dirty wash rag.
I want him to bleed.
I want my knife to slice across his neck,
Letting him die,
Slowly.
Ill watch him drop to the floor,
My blade dripping rubies,
As I watch him die.
Ill kick his dying body,
Laughing,
Because he can’t defend himself.
Ill crack a rib,
Or two.
I want him to feel nothing but pain,
During his final moments.
I want the last thing he’ll ever see,
To be,
My smirking face and,
My bloody blade.