Have a taste of your own medicine

You depressed me. The way you used your body as a wall.

How you blew it out of proportion to make her stay and love you.

You tried to intimidate with the molehills under your skin.

And she’d parade you around, pretending to possess you.


She suffered from her dilettante heart and lack of empathy.

She was insufferable, digging your grave under her skin.

She was the exact opposite of what she pretended to be.

And everybody fell into the trenches of her childish depression.


She had never known what it feels like to live in mental war zones.

She knew how to act as if she had seen it all, as if pain and violence

Had reached her shores and lingered. She wanted to matter and invented

Stories of horror to captivate an audience. She had no idea what fire feels like.


It took me an instant to see right through you but I held on

To my hopes, trying to see the best in you. I shot myself in

The knee. What a monster you were. Your psychopathic voices.

Swimming in gold and breast milk as pseudo adults, without moving

A single finger. I should have laughed at you, should have left,

But I let you make me suffer instead, play a part in your fucked-up fairy tales.


The thought of you makes me cringe and the inauthentic version

Of myself that you brought forth. One of the most liberating things

I did in my life was to cut you the fuck out of it. All the harm that you did.

You had always been the last people that I’d want to associate with.


You reeked of unearned privilege and pretentiousness. You were so

Rotten and shallow, you’d always stay the worst kind of children,

Cradled to death, spoiled, frustrated and in denial. You thought you

Were the greatest without giving credit to your brainwashed support system,

Your sickening idealising sycophants who’d never have a life of their own.


Everybody was beneath you, and you hid away from the world in

Your shoved-down-your-throat riches, judging it, you cowards.

You were so full of bile and pettiness, I should have spat it right back

In your vicious faces.

Keep your poison to yourselves.

Your revolting taste.

woman wearing pink lace cami top
Photo by Godisable Jacob on Pexels.com



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