It would be nice to die just so I could haunt you and see your reaction when you actually feel a sense of guilt for the first time in your life. You would never process it. It wouldn’t even phase you. You’ve already blacked out and buried in your shitty fucked up head any of the shit you seriously said to me.
I would fucking crawl into your fucking ear and dig that shit and slam it on you for the rest of your existence.
And everything else you’ve ever fucking done that you always fucking blamed on everyone else.
But instead I’ll sit here and just tell myself that you’re not worth it. For who knows how long until I’m finally past it.