Love fuelled hate

These pages are filled with my hate towards you, to me, to those I don’t even know are real. I hide my feelings here because you can never know the extent of my destruction; I don’t need your precious tears. Can’t you feel the hate I slash across this page? I leave it here just for you. My mind can only vent this rage that my body wishes to consume. I draw your death here between lines hoping now that you’ll see the rift that keeps me from feeling that which makes you free. You think you know me, but you never read my words, so how can you know what little restraints are stopping me from tearing your life away. I’m blinded by the notion that I can be saved by not giving in to this demon gripping my heart; the only emotion I know is really real. You stand before me unknowing, tempting me to tell you not with my pen but with my fist that grips it. You can read my story here for this is my only truth, any story I tell will not be reprinted for the public courts, for they’ll have their own story to tell. I am the demon inside me, I am the one with whom I fight. Your death will mean nothing to me; I can feel nothing as I watch the angel’s flight. Do not despair if my words frighten you, your safe while I do not speak, my pen is my sword, my words are my ammunition, my life is only a battlefield. So I stab you, my enemy, letting the ink spill like blood, your safe while you read this, my hate, the anger I will never let spread. Only I can save you, by killing you in my mind, your life will continue to live but your character is better off dead.