Rest in Pieces

Rage washes over me as I become more aware of all the ways in which your pathetic indolence filled my life with sheer despair. Torn into pieces, I adorned myself with scorn and began to contemplate ways to make you wish you had never been born. I will poke and prod at you with my demonic pitchfork, until your walls fall down like mass destruction in New York. The audacity you had to lecture me as you remained, in your glass house so picture perfect, yet full of disdain, was enough to infuriate me further, like the bulls in Spain. I see nothing but red hoping to shed, the blood that you owe me for the years you stole from me. I could instead be the better person and pick up and resume, but the violence within me seethes, threatening to consume me whole. Like those imprisoned without parole, you were the weakest link within my chain so I had to set you free, until it became apparent that you were pathetically dependent on me. You claimed that you were stronger and that you had rose above, but all you ever wanted was to be in love. I have my friends, family and confidence to spare, while you just have your money, permanently aware that nobody else is there. Fill your voids with selfishness and greed, until you realize that you were misled by your definition of what it means to truly succeed. Eat up my security and drink deeply of my self-esteem, I paid the cost already and now refuse to remain within your pathetic and lonely regime. Impossible is now possible without you breathing down my neck, step to the side and reflect on all the ways your own ego led to your train wreck. Like a princess toiling endlessly to spin straw into gold, the way you coveted material things endlessly is what resulted in your face that looks so old. This is not about you being way too short for me, but instead it has more to do with all the ways you made me unhappy. I could count them on my fingers but I do not have enough to spare, to compile lists of all the ways you made me choke on your arrogant air. Devoid of flair, your future bursts into flames as you realize with further clarity that it was always you my eyes despised. You might think that you are a prize, but the kind the recipient would always try to give away, as you poisoned me with your stupidity and yet, you still somehow expected me to stay. I am over, done and through as I allow my newfound strength to process and think it might seem too good to be true. A world, a life, a story without you would take away the pain and wash away the blues. Your emptiness was the death of me, but I have been reborn; revived by my own desire to stay alive, no longer around to remain enslaved by your treacherous thorns. You lied and made it same like you were relatively sane, yet all you wanted from me was to listen to you endlessly, as you insufferably complained. I am over and done, as I walk away from your insipid smoking gun; the echo of the shots that killed the sheriff still remain, purifying me as I slip away from you, and ultimately, everything mundane. You were the cancer that ravaged my brain and the poison that lingered throughout my veins; the hatred that consumes me desperately, hungry like the poor, and you were the final frontier of my attraction to all things immature. Rest in pieces.