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.