harsh... i hope that i am sorry.

in that one moment i took all of the anger of the world and shoved it inside of my stomach and wrung it out with my hands that shook with rage.

it lasted only a second or two,

the aftershock was longer.

it hurt.

just like you used to.

why does it matter?

because i cannot overcome the hurdle,

i cannot beat you,

i cannot beat myself.

and that is why i will run,

swim,

drink,

and cleanse myself of everything that is you until i will

stop.

all i can think is that someone like me was not worth trying for.

and that hurts more than your shameless and cavalier ambience,

you fake.