I have been trying not to think of you as much as I should. I have been thinking of you all day today as though you were a bite by some dangerous animal. It scared me. I think it showed for my colleagues asked me what the matter was but I decided to just go about as if nothing too uninteresting had ever happened to me. And the ruse played off well for a while so I wasn’t too upset. But sipping my coffee and thinking of you; don’t have the energy to completely swallow it. I know that to you life is going fine. And I’m happy for that. But I don’t understand why you decided to be like this. So spoiled and horribly unsophisticated, and so evilly content in living off from scraps and do anything to get them even when full fruits are around. I realised you were a coward. You wanted things to be easy. You wanted to be manipulatively charming and funny but that’s not you. The you attacks people who are truly happy and content because it gives you satisfaction to see them unhappy. And when they are immune to you or show signs of a craziness more decent than your selfishness you leave. Like some half dead shark eaten by an orca your rotten corpse is somewhere near my memory and the tide brings it up, pulls it back, like a slingshot. But that device is started to wear. It hurt more before to know you survived the roof crashing under and that in the last minute you saw the scar bleached with a narrowness so caustic and anthropophagous that it felt it was going wreck me and rip me. But I realized that though a dead shark’s tooth can still scratch someone I will not be the thorn bird who will be decidely commit emotional suicide thinking of you. Of if I was love with you or not? I know parts of me was in love with the pseudo-comforts of you and that is why it was hard to see the damage. You were gonna stab me in the back but I wrestled that knife away from you and what pained you is that even if you got to me you didn’t fully get to me. I didn’t get stockholm syndrome and it sickens you because that means what you always thought of me came true. The envy you had and the sort of talent you felt I possessed and the naturalness of me in both sun and smoke and daggers and blooms is true. I will always be more beautiful than you.