How DARE you
call me
ANYTHING at all!

What gives you
the right?
Who fed you
sweet lies
and convinced you
“your **** don’t stink”
and you drip
of righteousness?!

SICK...
that’s what
you said, right?

So now I’M sick
merely because
I write and
I’m honest on
these pages,
as I metaphorically
bleed all over
them,
with uncharacteristic
disregard for the mess
I may have made?

Don’t EVER
mistake
poetic sweetness
for mortal weakness.

Maybe YOU’RE
the weak one;
the SICK one.

By the way,
who told you
you could ‘write’...
poetry?

No, I’d really
like to know,
‘cause the gloves
are off.

You started this,
but I will
END it.

I’ll stop here
or I’ll go on
for days,
and do it with a
Cheshire grin
as I tear you
apart.

You wanna see
SICK darlin’?

Come closer...
if you
F**KIN’ DARE!


-by Mercurychyld
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