And between those flashes of pain
I have moments of clarity too,
Where I think and decide
Of returning him the favour
He did to me,

For the next time we meet
I would definitely
Shove him back,
Hit him,
Pull out his hair,
Scrape his skin,
Bruise his right eye,
Dig my nails into his veins
Until blood is drawn

And
walk away
As he crawls on the ground,
Gritting his teeth against all the pain

The way I did
When he left.