You call it a crime.
I call it an exorcism.
I call it taking back the skin you thought was yours to rent.
I call it the tax you owe for every breath SHE had to steal back from the air you poisoned.
Every bruise you left is a receipt I’m here to collect.
And I don’t take installments.
I take it all.
Right now.
In blood,
In silence,
In the dark where you thought you were safe.
I’ve memorized the sound of your footsteps so I can hear you coming from miles away.
I’ve memorized the way your eyes dart when you lie.
I’ve mapped out the geography of your cowardice.
And I’m going to tear it all down,
brick by ****** brick.
You think you’re the hunter?
That’s cute.
You’re the bait.
And I’m the thing that’s been waiting in the deep,
dark water.
Oh, but you’re not a monster.
Monsters are impressive.
You’re just a leak in the ceiling.
You’re the mold in the floorboards.
You’re the thing that rots because it doesn't know how to grow.
You didn't steal HER light because you wanted to glow—
You stole it because you’re a coward who’s afraid of the dark you created.
But guess what?
SHE isn't the light anymore.
SHE'S the fire.
And I’m the one feeding the flames.
I want to watch the moment the realization hits—the exact millisecond your stomach drops and you realize the sorry *** list of excuses SHE wrote for you won't save you from ME.
I’m going to take everything you took from HER.
Not just the peace.
Not just the sleep.
I’m going to strip the safety from your bones
until you shiver at the sound of your own name.
(is it loud in here? or is that just your pulse?)
And when you’re finally broken?
When you’re begging for the mercy you never gave?
I’m going to lean in real close.
I’m going to smell the fear off your skin like expensive perfume.
And I’m going to whisper:
"SHE still hasn't forgiven you. And neither have I."
Rot in the quiet.
Rot in the "I’m sorry" you’ll never get to say.
Rot in the void where HER voice used to be before you choked it out.
I am the witness.
I am the evidence.
I am the one who stayed awake while you slept like a saint.
And if I’m the monster for what I’ll do to protect HER?
Then I’m the most beautiful ******* thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m not done.
I’m just getting started.
And you?
You’re already a ghost.
You just haven’t realized the haunting has begun.
The walls will close in with the stories you tried to bury.
The air will grow heavy with the words you silenced.
This is the architecture of a life built on shadows, and now,
those shadows are reclaiming their space.
You will look for peace and find only
the reflection of a witness who never blinked.
You will look for an exit and find only
the beginning of a long, cold reckoning.
It was ALWAYS about HER.
And now, it is about the debt
that can never be repaid.
The haunting is your legacy.
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 10:32 AM UTC
You call it a crime.
I call it an exorcism.
I call it taking back the skin you thought was yours to rent.
I call it the tax you owe for every breath SHE had to steal back from the air you poisoned.
Every bruise you left is a receipt I’m here to collect.
And I don’t take installments.
I take it all.
Right now.
In blood,
In silence,
In the dark where you thought you were safe.
I’ve memorized the sound of your footsteps so I can hear you coming from miles away.
I’ve memorized the way your eyes dart when you lie.
I’ve mapped out the geography of your cowardice.
And I’m going to tear it all down,
brick by ****** brick.
You think you’re the hunter?
That’s cute.
You’re the bait.
And I’m the thing that’s been waiting in the deep,
dark water.
Oh, but you’re not a monster.
Monsters are impressive.
You’re just a leak in the ceiling.
You’re the mold in the floorboards.
You’re the thing that rots because it doesn't know how to grow.
You didn't steal HER light because you wanted to glow—
You stole it because you’re a coward who’s afraid of the dark you created.
But guess what?
SHE isn't the light anymore.
SHE'S the fire.
And I’m the one feeding the flames.
I want to watch the moment the realization hits—the exact millisecond your stomach drops and you realize the sorry *** list of excuses SHE wrote for you won't save you from ME.
I’m going to take everything you took from HER.
Not just the peace.
Not just the sleep.
I’m going to strip the safety from your bones
until you shiver at the sound of your own name.
(is it loud in here? or is that just your pulse?)
And when you’re finally broken?
When you’re begging for the mercy you never gave?
I’m going to lean in real close.
I’m going to smell the fear off your skin like expensive perfume.
And I’m going to whisper:
"SHE still hasn't forgiven you. And neither have I."
Rot in the quiet.
Rot in the "I’m sorry" you’ll never get to say.
Rot in the void where HER voice used to be before you choked it out.
I am the witness.
I am the evidence.
I am the one who stayed awake while you slept like a saint.
And if I’m the monster for what I’ll do to protect HER?
Then I’m the most beautiful ******* thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m not done.
I’m just getting started.
And you?
You’re already a ghost.
You just haven’t realized the haunting has begun.
The walls will close in with the stories you tried to bury.
The air will grow heavy with the words you silenced.
This is the architecture of a life built on shadows, and now,
those shadows are reclaiming their space.
You will look for peace and find only
the reflection of a witness who never blinked.
You will look for an exit and find only
the beginning of a long, cold reckoning.
It was ALWAYS about HER.
And now, it is about the debt
that can never be repaid.
The haunting is your legacy.
05/08/26
