The deviant devices of a hateful bitch.

No.

The answer is no, I do not want you to be happy, I do not want you to look her in the eyes and tell her with false hope that you love her.

No.

I don’t care if I sound snide or pert or rude or politically incorrect, but I don’t wish for your happiness, I wish for your tragedy and your mourning that our tongues are not locked in union.

No.

These hands were not meant to stroke another.  This body was not meant to be seen by anyone other than you because you are the only one who knew what every vein in my network was for.

No.

I can’t pretend to like that you’ve moved on and that I still have not and I refuse to smile just for your sake.  You and I are exquisitely meant to endure this torture together, living separate lives until the day we can finally be together.

So no.

I’m not happy for you.

I wish you no rest.

I wish you no future.

I wish you taste the bitterness in my mouth.

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One thought on “The deviant devices of a hateful bitch.

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