Prose: "Why can't I hate you?"

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by alluringlucienne

by alluringlucienne

“Are you mad at me?”

Mad? No. How dare you ask me such an absurd question without having the actual intention to atone for your sins of killing my soul? Asking if I am mad is very underwhelming. I am infuriated! I though you are a dream come true but it turns out that you are my nightmare — A GHOST THAT HAUNTS ME WHEN I'M TRYING TO FORGET!

I vomit the butterflies I once had in my stomach when we were talking and cut the parts of me you kissed until it bleed and forget about how your gentle lips touched it — YOU DISGUST ME!

I had my eardrums battered purposely just so I won’t hear anymore of the lies you kept on telling me. They were sweet. In fact too sweet that it makes me sick now when I think about it.

I HATE YOU. I hate you with every bits and fibre of my being. I hate you. Why won’t you just rot in hell already damn it!?

But then‚ do I actually have the guts to say it? Of course none. I do not even have the strength to stand with you face to face for looking into your eyes feel like falling into the pit of nothingness. It’s cold and dark‚ just like the way I hate it.

I have killed you in the most gruesome way I could inside my mind. But afterall the efforts of hating you‚ my heart still kept you alive.

“No‚ i’m not.”

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🌱footnotes🌱
photo: https://pin.it/1kQ3UUXwB
:: typographical errors are inevitable
:: open for criticisms