i want this poem to be mad
i want to hand you this poem because you hurt me again for the nth time
i am so angry with myself because i waited
but now
i hate myself for hating you
yet
i want to slapped this poem on your face,
the scenery i used to admire
i want to punch you on your shoulders,
places where i used to lean
i want to break your hands
for they used to held mine

i want to use these fists not to fist bump you
but for the last time,
to break your **** heart without me regretting it