I wish I could want to talk to you.
I wish I would want to be your Friend.

I once thought you were so cool.
I once wished to get to know you better.

Now I wish only to forget.
Now I wish to move directly on.

I once was enthralled by you.
I once respected you greatly.

You had plenty of chances
to get out of it like a decent ******* human being
"maybe we aren't right for eachother"
I would try to suggest
and you would shove those words
back down my ******* throat
in a volley of self-righteous fits.

You
"had to love another"
to see the worth of my words;
what a ****** excuse
for such a known closet ****.

I say "****"
because I disagree with such debauchery;
I, who once partook,
to a certain extent
have come to see the folly of such ways,
to a certain extent
thanks to you.

I wish I could abstract my conscience
from any sense of morality;
you've got talent.

I thought you were better than that.
Turns out I was in denial
of all the things I'd heard
from your list of prior exes;

no wonder you ****** so well;
no wonder you ******,
you ****;
no ******* wonder.

Now I am inspired by you in was I never wanted to be;
Now I am compelled to give you the cold shoulder
until I can shatter the remnants of you out of my life
once and for all
like a thing frozen
in liquid Nitrogen.

I wish I could be your Friend;
I wish I could love you;
I wish I could stomach even the very thought of you;
but, to be perfectly and brutally honest:

I can't say I lament such is not the case.
I can't say I ever want to write about you.
I can't  say I ever want to think about you.
I can't  say a lot of the things I've said before.

Tou-*******-ché;
a child with post-pubescent physical maturity.

You don't deserve the warmth of even a cold shoulder.

I can, however, honestly say
I realized at some point in the last couple months that it came to be
that I was more used to your presence
than it was that I loved you;
you became moreso  familiar than compelling,
though nevertheless,
less and less comforting.

So,
the best course of action for me
for the sake of my Self, Sanity and Health,
was, and still is, to change my habits
and to minimize those bad ones:
Some of which are Things,
others of which are People,
and, this time, one of the People
with whom I'd made a bad habit of keeping company
just so happened to be You.

And I'm generally much happier now,
and part of me hopes that you are too;
yet a part of me still truly hopes
that you haunt your own Nightmares.

Go and **** someone
and **** up those who love you
tryin' to fill that Void
from which you're on the run
on the inside

The Gravity will only grow.
The Gravity will only grow.
I hope you choke on it.
I hope it ***** you down.
I hope it swallows you whole.

The Gravity will only grow.

Sorry,
but not really.
Not honestly.
Not earnestly.
I don't think you deserve an apology.

I don't enjoy writing this
but it does help clear my head.
It's healthier to share the expression
than it is to brood and let it boil over.

I don't think you really deserve
this level of attention or energy of mine
but, evenso,
here I sit
typing this
****
and
it
even came
to the point of
"sorry".

Don't take it for granted.

Ich bin von dir angeekelt;
Du kotzt mich völlig an.