Hate is Blind.
I was diagnosed with a late stage of love,
It coverts the soul with euphoric colours.
I had never been so " in feeling."
So mutually eaten.
- And then she came in a rage of homicide;
A selfish immature naiive glare in her eyes
She didn't understand her hurt or the impact of her frivalous lies on our once simple life,
- But after quite some time of quiet patience and contemplation and then meditation searching for some shred of my spirit left in zen yet still I began to despise her.
I had fallen for her;
Deeply into hatred I had fallen harder than anybody has ever loved!
I lusted after her last breath, to mutilate her face and scorch her bigger breasts
I would make her unfaceable
But keep her alive...
Steal her beauty and release her back into the wild, unkind world of ego and ergo force her person to learn what it means to be nice,
Or at least not to get on the wrong side of real women with quality steel knives.
So after several years of stalking my prey,
every move, every day; watching her slay my lover over and over until his light too went away forever leaving him broken and lifeless our soul split spilt all over the rubble in the grubby sewers of her rotting streets
Every trend she got obsessed by,
Every friend she posessed slyly playing and pretending to be nice and kind like her puppets and dolls and then every time she stabbed them in the back and grabbed all their money for security and crack; I saw it all.
And it made me cruel.
I'm still watching, and I'm coming for you because I hate you so much my darling, I hate you to death all the way to the moon and back again and I'm going to see you suffer until you have nothing left in your soul but to truly know what love is.