F E E L
l i k e
MY LIFE was incomplete. It will never be complete. And you are to blame! Yes it’s you. Shit the things you have done. Shit the path you have chosen. Shit the choice you have made. Well let’s give thanks to those shits because without those I’ll never have the chance to write this shit full of shits.
I don’t know why I’m wasting my time writing this. Maybe just to let the shit out of me, maybe just to blame you, maybe just to ruin your life as what you did to mine, maybe just to hurt you as how you’ve hurt me. But I doubt it. You can’t feel. You have no conscience. You don’t even have a heart to be hurt at all. If you have a heart maybe it’s not beating, maybe it’s fake, maybe it’s different to the point no one, even scientific elucidation, can explain, maybe it’s not a heart at all. Because if you really have a heart, you will never do such things. You will never decide such decisions. You will never choose such option. You will never hurt such innocent.
But because you don’t have a real heart you do such things, things I will never even think of doing. I will never be like you. I have a heart, a heart you have stepped like what you have done to a bit of cigarette, a heart you have thrown like what you have done to a candy’s wrapper, a heart you have ruined even before it becomes intact. I was so vulnerable, so weak, so feeble, so frail, so helpless, so fragile, and so delicate, that just breathing seems to be the hardest thing to do.
You made me feel that way and I will never learn how to forget how you made me feel. Yet you’re still not contented. You wanted to be remembered. So in my heart you carved. And you did what you want; your signature in my heart will always be here. No matter how hard I try to remove it, to scratch it, there’s nothing I can do.
You just won. For you, winning is hurting and letting others down. I didn’t know what you are, I didn’t know what to call you. You’re just an existing creature nothing more. After all these years, I still cannot forget the pain. It’s still affecting me. It’s still ruining me. It’s still sipping my soul out. It’s still emptying me. And I think, as long as I live so will the agony.
Are you happy? Are you at ease? Are you satisfied to what you have done? Or are you still not contented? Are you pleased that you have hurt me? Or you still wanted to hurt me? Are you thrilled that you’re still affecting my life? Or you wanted more? Are you delighted to see me shedding tears? Or do you want me to shed blood? Are you fulfilled to see me living with misery? Or you wanted me to see not breathing at all? You have ruined my life and still you’re longing to steal it?
Why I even ask, eh you don’t have a heart to feel! I feel sorry for you. There’s one thing in this world that you can’t feel. And never will you experience it. One thing that’s very special, very extraordinary, and very real. It’s love! You’re out of love. Love for you is just a word. But there’s more to love. It isn’t just a word you can spell. It isn’t just a word you can read. It isn’t just a word and you will never know what it is. You will never understand. You will never feel how to love and to be loved. Pity! I am done here. Even if this shit is full of shits, it’s for you! Thanks to your shits. My last words for you; I shittingly shitting you. Sorry there seems to be no words existing that I can express what I’m feeling for you.
(Sorry for some harsh words I’ve used.)