appetite

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i thought victory would taste delicious.
revenge was to be my dish served cold.
it's supposed to taste good, and yet it doesn't,
it's disgusting

you hurt me,
i can't even count the injuries you put on my body,
the wounds may look inconspicuous,
but trust me they're there 

i wanted revenge,
to let you feel how you made me feel.
i was hellbent on ruining your life,
i had hoped it would settle the fact that you ruined mine,
but after i did,
i couldn't stomach the guilt.

it made me feel worse,
it turned me into what you were,
a horrible monster.
it made me no better than you.

so, the taste on my tongue was not victory,
it's the defeat of both of us.
i spoiled my own appetite.
i wish i could spit it up,
force it out,
but it's too late.

now i'm left with a plate of regret

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