You whine when you don't get your way.
You value all the wrong things,
And you somehow don't realize it.
You disgust me,
The way that you have no idea,
Because you don't care,
About what I'm going through right now.
About what I need.
You scare me,
I think it's because you're able to do this,
Because you're able to laugh at him,
You're able to scoff,
And talk behind his back.
Did the fact that he's dead,
Did that strengthen your hate?
Did that make you more proud of it?
Did it make you so cocky about it?
Did it make you grin,
How he couldn't catch you anymore?
How he couldn't get angry with you,
Because he was dead?
Did that make you happy?
I remember you smiling,
At the funeral.
You were simply beaming at me.
I'm not sure,
If it was to make me feel better,
But I had a feeling it wasn't,
I had a feeling it was just to provoke me.
You loved doing that,
You loved knowing that I hated you,
You loved knowing that all you did,
All the pieces of it,
They all affected me.
You loved that,
And then I warned you.
I warned you,
That I would get you,
And you wouldn't be able to say sorry,
Because I wouldn't let you speak.
That would be implying then,
That I was willing to listen.
I didn't like the thought of that.
I hurt you.
I hurt you bad.
I hurt you more than you could have imagined,
I hurt you so that you couldn't tell me,
Because that would be implying that I was willing to listen,
And I didn't like the thought of that.
But this is it.
This is it.
My vision is going darker,
And my hands are getting weak.
I don't think you can hear me anymore,
Because your eyes have glazed over.
I don't care.
You can die,
I won't blink.
I still believe,
That you should have gotten,
What he got,
You deserve worse.