“I can’t wait to never see you again.”

I thought, before I noticed your bed was empty and your car gone.

Wondering where you’d gone this time, and wishing you’d come home.

So I could beg you to leave.

You’ve been gone all weekend, probably with your new man.
As to why I’m sitting here waiting, I’ll never understand.

I cleaned the house.
Scrubbed the toilets.
I even made you dinner.
And you couldn’t care less.

How good was it, that you’re still not home this late on a Sunday?
I just want you to notice.
I just want to  be seen, like “check out the porcelain, that’s quite a sheen!”

I want to go back to my old friends, a tall bottle and my knife.
I want to feel the burning of the liquor, and the cold of the steel.
I want to make manifest the pain you cause me, so I can feel something real.

Less than a six pack and surely I’d be ready for the noose.
The tree out back should be sturdy enough.
My limbs would lie steady, before the tree’s would come loose.

Will you let my loved ones have my things?
Would you come to my funeral?
Would you spit out my name in front of your new lovers door; and forget my existence, now and evermore?

Teach me how to care less. How to be cunning, conniving and cold.  
So I can take this knife to my throat, without seeing my mother’s face.
Teach me how to care less.
So I can bleed out on our floors, like a worthless disgrace.

If I let it all go, and find myself in hell.
Just know that I’ll be waiting.

When years have passed and you’ve forgotten my name.
When you’ve moved on to new lovers and abandoned them; all the same.

When you’re tired and lonely and old and dying.
When your callous, poisoned heart finally gives out.

I will claw my way through the wastes.
Past tormented souls and demons too, nothing will stop me hunting for you.

And as you stand at the edge, waiting for the boatman.
I will reach up from the depths, and drown you in the river styx.

I ******* hate you.

Walking down the edge of a moonlit beach
I feel the cool sands shifting beneath my feet

Father once warned me to stay clear of the sea
But I’m already drowning, what difference is it to me?

The breeze runs through my hair.
I hear the crashing of waves, and smell salt in the air.

I walk slowly to the waters edge, ankle deep in the tide.
The waters wash against my skin and send chills down my spine

It’s but gentle reminder, of what is to come - and my only escape, from the things that I’ve done.

I’m up to my neck now, and there’s no turning back
The moonlight fades out and my vision goes black

I feel a sigh of relief as I release my last breath
And let the seas take me, into the darkest of depths.

I would douse every memory of you in gasoline.

I would torch every photo, every tangible item that reminds me of you.

I would curse your name, choking as my lungs filled with acrid smoke.

I would burn this place to the ground.

I would die amongst the flames along with our love. Just to haunt the ashes of what once was.

I would do this.....if I thought it would mean a ******* thing to you.

All these things I said I would do
are catching up to me
and it seems like laziness is adhesive
keeping me stuck in this chair
but really it's what's within
that's keeping me from
doing all those things I said I would do,
so now I just feel guilty when
I sit down at the end of the day
to stare at monitors and play
stupid redundant games
just like I've been doing
for my whole ******* life

There's a way to break this cycle
and it's as easy as just ******* doing
all those things that I said I would do