I Call It Breaking




Hate is invigorating

isn’t it darling?


You can taste it, can’t you?


I can taste it


That white hot sensation spreading

in my lower belly

absolute loathsome at

dirt-rotten hair


Words that twist

in my head

like a pretty little rose vine

those thorns cutting into my skin


You hate those also


Yet you still

prick and prod

until the aroma drowns out

that metallic scent


Exquisite fingers skim across my pulse

grin wicked like the devils

his lips ghost over mine

a hairsbreadth distance

lips like molten lava


And then he’s gone


The skin on my wrist still smolders

as I watch him descend

I rub the ache as if it could relieve the pain

The dull spasms in my chest


It tingles

even as I walk away

and it warms me

Hate is the only thing that’s ever warmed me






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