Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Watch as I Spit You Out!

 Out of all the eyes in this room, yours weighed down on me the most-
I could feel your stare more intensely than any of theirs the moment I walked through the door.
However, nothing about your gaze felt warm or welcoming; that gaze is the catalyst for how I feel now-

From across the room your words echoed in my head and I tried endlessly to block you out! I could hear bits and pieces of a conversation I didn't want to be aware of, so I fought back! While you were drowning me with your words and her laughter, I sought a petty sanctuary within a friends menial flirtations.

I hope his compliments scorched some part of you because I’m over feeling sorry and I’m finished feeling guilty. You've extrapolated your revenge- you succeeded in beguiling me to like you while treating me like a dependable but deficient fuck toy.

It fucking hurt!

It tore through me in the ugliest ways! There was nothing clean, sharp, or sanitary about the wounds you inflicted- and because of that, I may be the better person. Ironically, I’m using your confessions to accelerate my recovery- I’m using my rage.

I never fathomed I would have to taste anything so bitter but life is all about new experiences.

I know you won’t feel the same way I did two years ago- you will not feel: guilty, concerned, or responsible because you told me what “this” was.

I’m not sweet, I’m not docile, and I’m not passive- I've tried, but that really isn't who I am. I hope you’re prepared to hate me again because I’m going to meet you eye to eye for each sordid incision you left-
for making me feel degraded, demeaned, and demoralized.

Self-preservation isn’t my concern when you intentionally infected me with pain so FUCK YOU!

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