saturday
June 1, 2008Lying on the ground. Cheek on the dirty carpet. Can see the dark under the bed.
His booted foot, his grunts as he labors from the exertion of slapping you so hard you fell.
His shoe, winding back, connecting with your stomach, the pain less than the shock and the feeling of disbelief, betrayal and hatred.
He’s sitting across from you next to your mother, laughing at a story your father is telling him. Everyone is eating a nice civilized meal, relieved you are going back to the lying disrespectful bastard. You choke down the bile with a genteel sip of mineral water.
He tells you that the vacation you’ve been planning with your family can’t happen.
This petty, small minded fucking fool.
And you know hate.
The cold, simmering kind that will twist your gut and give you cancer.
And you know you can kill him.
Watch him bleed to death and walk away without a qualm for the rest of your life because he deserves it.
And all you can do is plan how it’ll happen so you’ll finally get rid of him
if you can, and i really wish you would, please drop me a line. i know of you and i want to tell you something that i have been carrying with myself for a long time. create a fake separate id if you want to, but i really really hope i can talk to you. i know of you, sr and i just want to get something off my chest. much love.
and if you can, please delete the above comment. and this one too, of course.
i replied to your email a few days ago.