Hunt.

(were you not taught to think before you speak?…….)

I don’t stop myself because I am a good person.I stop myself because I don’t know how to stop if it starts.

And if you start me? You have no one to blame but yourself.

Safe for now back in the bunker but some days I wonder for how long?  How long I can hold it at bay? I am not afraid of the pain.Its nothing new.I have had my ass kicked before,you live.What frightens me is me,is what I will do because  I am not going to stand there talking shit,shadow boxing and drawing attention to myself.I am going to go for eyes with my thumbs,to bite lips off,to tear ears from the skull with a mere seven pounds of pressure.Like an animal I will throw my full weight taking no time to consider the landing.

The aim is to maim.

I want to do as much damage as humanly possible in the shortest time.

To deform the face.I want kids to point and stare at what I leave of you just like you pointed , stared and talked shit about me.I want you to live hunted till the day I decide to come back and finish what I started.I want you to feel the weight of the agoraphobia that I have to overcome everyday because I know that no matter what I do and where I go in this country that some ignorant fuck is going to think that they have the right to talk shit about me to my face.I want it to cripple you,for you to be taunted and hunted and tortured just for existing,just for looking the way you do.

I want to be the cause of your effect.

Here,allow me…..

I dream of it.I  taste copper and wayward electric currents flood my hungry mouth. I get wet.You are drunk and walking down the alley.I stalk you and leaping on your back  effortlessly garroting you with a piano wire and with this casual brutality I steal your voice. But I let you live in misery and silence so you can never yell trash out of a car window at another woman as long as you live.You look art the scar in ever mirror,every reflective surface you pass.

Now ask yourself,what is to stop me from following you home?

This is what you deserve you rude,ugly,disrespectful shit stain.This is why I train.I run.I imagine dropping 20kg plates on your head ,of sticking a cattle prod up your ass ,of holding a 45. to your head and making you suck off your best mate who thought it was oh so funny when you were calling me names, until he blows in your mouth ,both of you crying like the bitches you are for daring to give me shit while I was reading on the train minding my own business.While I was politely doing my job,while I was shopping for my grocery’s…

I remember everything.My mind is a bear-trap .Every single look,laugh ,pointed finger,snigger…I have it all logged and filed.Not only are you fucking with a borderline psychotic who reached the end of her rope around the age of eight,you are messing with a writer.A writer that you showed your ID to on the door.A writer and a bitch with a flawless memory who now knows where you live.It won’t be tomorrow or next week,hell it may take me a decade but I will get you.I will unravel all that you are.Rest assured that I will drive you insane.

You will pay.

You wont even remember who I am or what you did because bully-boy fucks like you treat anyone different like shit where ever you go,day in and day out.And for that transgression? You pay double.

Can’t wait to get you alone,separate you from the pack…

You all hopped up on pills and drunk being a weekend warrior and a weekday coward.See,nothing is clouding me sunshine and I have all the time that you don’t.One day all your mates won’t be around and that’s when you are shit out of luck.You wont be the 1st grown man I have made piss in his pants and you won’t be the last.And the true beauty of it? You wont tell a soul what I end up doing to you.The shame will be too great,on that you can trust me.

You sad small lived pea brained cunt.I actually feel sorry for you.You run with a pack and you are ruled by fear.Minimum wage in a job you hate,car repayments,you live in a shoe box shit-hole or still at home,you look like everyone else,same pathetic off-the-wall tattoos as all the other drones,same big screen TV.You exist in debt and cashed in your pathetic dreams, too afraid to do anything different because the other sheep will turn on you.So there you have it big man,locked in a lie and then on your one big night out,your one 24 hour reprieve from sucking corporate cock you come across some one like me….

And my liberty and lack of adherence to any civilian code made you incandescent with rage because all you see before you is shit,a life time of utter dire shit.And what do you do? You lash out….

I’m not like your dumb wife and kids.I don’t have to take your abuse.

I hope,I pray that  someone,some fucking random talks to your stupid spouse and offspring the way you saw fit to talk to me,a stranger,someone you don’t know a goddamn thing about.Hope you wife packs on the pounds through the depression that it causes her (“Honey,why would someone just be that cruel out of nowhere? I just don’t understand….”),drinks all day and stops fucking you.I gleefully hope your daughters self harm and develop crippling eating disorders. Keep drinking,I want you to develop cancer of the liver,keep smoking…emphysema! Keep popping pills.The paranoia will lead to domestic violence.I wish all of this and so much more upon you.

It’s the bloodstained butterfly effect.If you hadn’t of disturbed me I never would have flapped my wings.What the fuck did I ever do to you anyway? You don’t know me.I didn’t start it but rest assured that I will finish it.Not a threat.A promise.

I  have been dealing with your kind as far back as I can remember,its nothing new to me but the world of pain I will open up for you? You are in for the ride of your short fucking life.Buckle up.

One thing I need to know before I pull your plug.Who the fuck are you and what gives you the right?

I will go on,I will remain on the outside,I will lead myself to glory like I always have and you will remain a cliche because that is what you were born to do.

You don’t know me.You don’t know what you are fucking with.

You better hope that cancer,catastrophe or death find you before I do.You better hope that I don’t get bored and decide to look you up.Follow you to work,hack your computer,sow seeds of doubt in your spouse,poison your law,steal your dog,blow up your car….The options are infinite.

When my anger clears I know that I am right to let you live.Anger fades but hatred? Oh!  It goes on and on and on….I want you do live in misery.It makes my existence so very much sweeter.

But I will be the last thing you see before you die.

One way or another.

Bet on it.