Frustrated.

Time moves slowly in my mind, even if the minutes tick like seconds.

Aggravated.

Not a word could release the pressure building in my skull.

Tormented.

The language I would use if I were to tell you how you made me feel.

She doesn't think a second thought of it.
But I do.

Every moment quickly becomes a year as her words cascade through the peaceful meadow that was me.
I feel every good thought drained as her sick lies fill me to the brim with regret for ever opening my mouth and saying hello.

And even though it feels like a millennium before I respond, mere moments have passed.
I take a deep breath and the pain is gone.

In the blink of an eye I've already forgotten why I'm angry.
The blink of her beautiful eyes.