Once again, I'm forced to neglect my chance of happiness to instead give it to others.
Once again, I sit and listen to perpetual moaning about the differences between who I am and who I should be.
Why should I abide his desire to put me under? He digs himself a deeper hole each day and unconciously awaits his own bloodstained burial.
Is is wrong that I don't care whether I allow him to breathe or dump his stiff carcass in the nearest river?
I've never been tempted by murder but lately, the vision of his lifeless eyes has been swimming in my head like the souls of a thousand unavenged hellions.
Hell hounds howl my name as my wrath is unleashed upon his wreckless soul and screams fill my ears as my vision turns a sickly yet thrilling scarlet hue.
Believe me, sweetheart, you've been begging for this for too long and when you turned on me with your petty, insolent disgrace of an excuse for breathing, I relished the thought of ripping your heart from your chest with my bare hands.
You don't want to know the things I'd love to do to you. You don't want to hear the chilling screams from my nightmares which seem more of a blissful dream lately.
This is my last warning... next time you wrongly decide to size up to me, you'll realize your mistake... but it'll be too late. By the time you notice the lack of oxygen in your lungs, your ashes will already be scattered across your mother's dinner like parmesan cheese.
That's it. I'm done. Rant over.