I Call It Breaking

 

 

 

Hate is invigorating

isn’t it darling?

 

You can taste it, can’t you?

 

I can taste it

 

That white hot sensation spreading

in my lower belly

absolute loathsome at

dirt-rotten hair

 

Words that twist

in my head

like a pretty little rose vine

those thorns cutting into my skin

 

You hate those also

 

Yet you still

prick and prod

until the aroma drowns out

that metallic scent

 

Exquisite fingers skim across my pulse

grin wicked like the devils

his lips ghost over mine

a hairsbreadth distance

lips like molten lava

 

And then he’s gone

 

The skin on my wrist still smolders

as I watch him descend

I rub the ache as if it could relieve the pain

The dull spasms in my chest

 

It tingles

even as I walk away

and it warms me

Hate is the only thing that’s ever warmed me

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