Impure Impulse

            It was a shock, you know? The way it all happened between us—the way any of it happened, at all.

            At some point, your eyes pierced through my heart—nearly breaking it apart. I had no idea where my mind disappeared to at that point, but it probably got lost putting together words to form a sentence intriguing enough for you to seek me out more often. Your eyes burned with a passion I could not express. Even as your eyes showed their natural hue to me—that colorless black—I still found their imprint lingering on my skin, and I sought to find out where it was that your eyes constantly scanned my body for, as though they burned with invisible flames. Never once did you turn around after you toyed with my mind; it was an enjoyment for you, wasn’t it? To have seen me squirm in your presence, and fluster with every move you made on me.

            Did it please you to see that in me? See the girl you loved so dearly cower in defeat over your patronizing words—all because you could not accept that I was free to leave when I wished. You never seemed to understand that I wouldn’t have left even if the world reversed its spin and made me forget all about you; I would never forget this love, I promised you this. But you didn’t hear me when I said the most hopeful things, and chose to condemn me with the most hurtful words instead. My love still burned for you the way the sun had a passion for the earth. Maybe it wasn’t always reciprocated, but I knew from the day we met, I was the sun and you were the earth. I would feed you love, but it would never be enough to have you love me back the same.

            Every passing moment, you would tear me apart. Your venomous words infected the wounds on my heart, until I could no longer breathe. I died. You killed my heart with your toxin, and in return, I only did what was right—my heart disappeared, but my mind finally returned. No love for you remained, only a passion left to burn. That passion was hatred—filled with so much angst. I thirsted for your blood, and fed on your cries. You broke me apart, so what was left for me to do? It was only fair—and I should say I was more than kind—to break your body apart, keeping intact your heart and mind. 

--; February 15th, 2013