X is for Kisses and Cruel Wishes

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I am not a spiteful person and even yet I wish I was less effected by such unadulterated hatred.
Yet at the same time I wish upon him the worst fates I can imagine. He who prods the devil in my head with a stick. He who used the girl I love as flesh for the taking... and she let him. He who did all I could imagine with her, before I could even hold her in the cold. How could she even taste his venomous lips while I was busy tasting the dusty barrel of my fathers pistol.
How dare she have someone for physical love when I am completely alone. My heart was tearing and splitting in two and I could feel it in my chest being severed by the very knife I plunged deep I called belonging. I wish my head wasn't such a car accident all the time. I wish I'd stop thinking about car accidents all the time. I wish I could stop her from ever meeting him, ever going under those stairs, ever meeting his hellish glance.
I wish I could stop thinking about the loud winter, about smashing his ugly face with a baseball bat. About taking his rotten body to the edge of the sidewalk where she and I walked in my memory, and placing his head to the curb. I wish I could stop hearing the ringing as I screamed at him for ever making me feel this way, the light brush of his teeth on cold cement before I cover the street with his thick salt filled blood.
I wish he would stop making the devil in my head say horrible things about her: "She's a whore. She doesn't love you for who you are. She'd be back with him in a heartbeat." The devil says it with a manacle grin that somewhat resembles the grin she gives me when I did something clumsy.
I wish I could freeze my brain like I imagine her ex freezing in the back seat of his car alone holding his dick proud of what he's done then pissing in blood the name of the girl I love. I wish my thoughts would cool down and freeze after taking a deep breath, the eye of the storm just before I start breathing impatiently again.
I cannot change the past so I wish I could erase either him or I from existence; maybe both of us would be best. That's why I have this blade at my wrist, or this gun in my mouth, or this air in my bloodstream. If I don't exist then nothing else exists for me right? I can just take one peaceful last breath, even watch it pass in front of me in the hopeless Grand Rapids air.

 

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