It has become an insatiable bloodlust now.
When I think of you, I want nothing more than your ultimate demise.
When I think I see you in the streets, I become livid and ready to take you down.
But it’s never you.
You pathetic, worthless, RAPIST, CUNTS, hiding away since the incident in order to forget what a waste of oxygen you are.
Or maybe you went quiet quick-smart because you knew what you did to me and you knew in your heart that that was in fact evil at it’s peak.
I wish nothing but the worst for you, and that’s a fact.