“because I prayed this word: I want”
— Sappho, If not, winter, translated by Anne Carson
Source: natreadsthings
I’d tell you that I’ll see you in hell, but you’re going alone.
i want to douse your inner thighs with gasoline and light a match. i want you to feel the never ending burn that i have to live with each day since you touched me. i want you to hurt just like i did.
You deserve to rot in the same prison that you chained me and left me to die in.
every word you speak taints my mind with disgust and everytime i have to see your disgusting face makes me want to throw up. you’re no good. you’re a complete waste of space. everything you do reflects on how much of a horrible monster you are. how dare you even try to speak to me or even been in my god damn presence anymore. you are not worthy of my time. you don’t deserve to even look at me. i wouldn’t even piss on you if you were on fire.
what the fuck did i ever do to deserve it
and why did you make me feel like i do
i hope the ground under you burns and the trees catch fire.
i hope the horizon glows a seething, bitter red.
i hope the flames lick at the home you've built and it your hope goes up in a cloud of smoke.
i hope you're set aflame, a living torch.
i hope your world burns, only a shadow of the living hell you put me through.
Just because you have lungs doesn’t mean you should use them.
I have seen you in my dreams, … And you are burning in hell.
honey i may be a disgusting creature, but you
you are something far worse
oh but dear, you seem disinterested. are you sure im of your taste?
dirty paws hit dusty earth.
,,i am more than i appear.
youve become redundant i should pity you but alas you brought this upon yourself, did you not?
the tumult of past words and phrases ring in your ears on repeat how are you to silence them? it may be better to deal with them than to forget
the vile bile rises while i seem to think i sink
no matter how you try you cannot seem to squeeze the last remnants of life out of me yet
the story of a dead boy can be long and saddening
but his, oh his, was short and sweet
with every breath there is slight chance of death
so please breathe with caution
my intention is not to hurt you , but if you continue to doubt me it is inevitable