The big bully try to stick his finger in my chest
Try to tell me, tell me he’s the best
But I really don’t give a good goddamn
Cause
I got my lunchbox and I’m armed real well
Next motherfucker’s gonna get my metal
♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊♦◊
It was never about the pain.
It wasn’t even about the disgrace and the shame.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” This may well be one of the stupidest sayings ever. Whatever the sticks and stones and fists break… it mends. What words can break, nothing can ever heal.
What I really despise you for are the moments where you reached in me and destroyed what I had for you. For all the times when I could just see red. When my eyes were blinded with images of your skull, crushed, your fingers, broken. For all the times I got numb.
You didn’t get it. You didn’t get ME. You never wished to see me.
I’m nothing like you. I don’t revel in your pain and misery.
Don’t try to stick your finger in my chest.
2 Comments
Over the years, I abandoned the idea of divine justice. Innocent children dying everyday in Africa is an argument strong enough against such romantic notions. But, if divine justice existed, I would trade my life for being it. I would like to be pure light, thunder angel of vengeance, immaterial, immortal, fire, nemesis.
But bad things happen to people, whether they deserve it or not. I’d like to lie, but maybe tomorrow the finger will penetrate your chest and kill you, or even worse, put you in a wheelchair for ever. But I think if you get rid off the finger, you’ll heal up pretty good in all aspects. That’s no lie, you’ve got what it takes.
Thank you mister vengeance.
I’ll expect you and your spear of light shortly.
Don’t be afraid. My chest is made of stone. No fingers can penetrate it.