Battle not lest ye become…

I stare at you like you’re wounded and I am going to eat the flesh from your bones as soon as you get dizzy and weak and fall into my arms.

I don’t like you anymore.

Before, I wouldn’t make eye contact, couldn’t even, because I did not want you to see the fact that I was holding my breath.

I never knew that only one of us was supposed to survive this.

At first I thought that my touch was melting you… that my words were enlightening you… that my presence provided meaning in a world devoid.

But now I simply know better.
I don’t need you anymore.
I don’t really even want you anymore.

I look right through you now like you are a pane of freshly washed glass suspended in midair perpendicular to the ground with nothing to obstruct me from howling at the moon.

I don’t care about your feelings anymore.

Before, I never slept at night, couldn’t even, I just closed my eyes and planned out our future conversations and encounters in soft lighting and hushed tones until the alarm snitched on my intentions to the morning like rats do.

I know now that only one of us is going to survive this.

And I have the advantage.

I don’t like you anymore.

I don’t need you anymore.

I have already survived so much that you don’t even rank in my mental gallery of scars and harm self-inflicted or otherwise.

I don’t really even want you anymore.

I don’t care about your feelings anymore.

And very possibly, I never did.
But I love you more than ever so the next time that my hand is around your throat, choke.
I will not hold back.

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