You are the bayonette-style chainsaw that cuts me raggedly in half. You know, the same one I've used time and time again... That bloody rendition of these gears of war. That surly disposition I put on when I am forced to read your one-worded replies. That frag grenade tossed skillfully toward my heart, just because you obviously assume that space is vacant. Oh how I leap for joy, when I see you online and yet I never get a message. Yes, I'm selfish... But you are myopic. Its things like this that impel me to question my sanity; because, surely I am an impetent fool to have ever liked you in the first place.
Can someone explain to me why people don't just take people they don't talk to off their friend lists??
and
Why haven't I taken her off of mine?
Oh soo very slowly, I am investing in insanity. All too quickly, I am vexing voluntary euthanasia. Never should we have shared hellos, never should we have held hands, never should our lips have met, never should we have made love... I am not content with your memory. I despise this body for allowing me to feel at all. Sooner would I cast myself into a calescent fire, than to ever look into your eyes again... than to ever touch your skin... than to ever hear your voice.
I have once again, had my heart ripped from the pseudo-safey of my chest, held high in one hand, and exorbitantly annihilated Mortal Kombat style. I'm no good at this game, and I don't know the cheat code for infinite health. So, my hope is that, someone who is more skilled at the game than you, will challenge you... and you will lose, my love... and in doing so, die a worse death than I. My continue button can't light up, until I see you lugubrious and lonely left cast down in a sinking sand whirlpool flooded with all the gifts you have given me: diffidence, ennui, acrimony, tedium, and histrionism.
Enjoy.
