I did not stop. The fluid movement of my tongue lapped in my mouth as I threw daggers at him. I was going at an incomprehensible speed where I knew that what I was saying was the cruel truth. My aim was hurt. My throat began to dry out but I kept going because there was no other way to express myself through the syllables and perfectly crafted weapons I yielded to make my revenge this much sweeter. A bitter sweetness because although a heat spread across my chest, and a thump resonated beneath my skin, I knew I had let him win. I could not let that happen again. I craved the raw, glazed eyed hurt that left a silent gasp in the room. Seeing the color drain and flushed out all at once to a palled complexion. A slight trembling in the hand cued the brink of defeat. But the race to composure was what brought it all back home because he was not able to reach it. I held it precariously close above him. The puppeteer and the master had finally switched places.

I stared at the jagged, gaping wound I left in his core that only my mouth and mind could achieve. I saw the pain I left as a trail sloppily lead from his dead, glazed eyes down his chiseled chest. A chest I had so fondly let the very tips of my fingers trail; touching but always slightly hovering until I saw the smallest patch of goose bumps appear that eventually spread across the rest of his tanned skin when my hand bloomed on his chest. The wound continued to curve towards his heart and rest at his core. It was the first of many places that would screw him up just like me.

I tore my eyes away from him, unable to gaze back at my work. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as the rage only simmered and molded itself through the crevasses of my undeniable hurt and betrayal. I tightly closed my eyes shut as I drew in another ragged breath. He would not be the exception.

That was the immaculate thing…how the wounds over time began to grow and amount until it consumed my entire being. The hurt one could inflict on someone like me was different than on any other. I was not an innocent girl by any means and did not hold any semblance of my childhood self because after being torn up and shredded to pieces so many times, you couldn't really break what had already been broken into a million pieces. The hits did not pack as great of a punch as they used to because they just rolled off of me. Things don't hurt as long as you don't attach yourself to them or let them gain any power and control. This was definitely one of the moments they never taught you in school.

I steeled myself in place and slowly raised my chin in the air as an emotionless mask slid back into place with sky high walls all around me just like the first day we met all over again.