remind her of him
and leave that feeling of sorrow to rot, to fester, to marinate
until she’s consumed by it and by him and by everything she hates.
leave her bones numb
so she can’t move for hours upon end,
praying to any god alive that her problems will solve themselves.
make her disappoint who she cares about most
while she remains incapable to reverse her actions
and to wallow in self-pity and anger and hopelessness.
show her true beauty,
and remind her why she loves being alive,
nearly bringing her to tears at what a miracle life is.
rip all of that away,
and relish in doing so, feeding off her despair,
using that energy to pull her further and further down.
continue to convince her you’re not sick,
but that everything is only her misjudgment, her idiocy,
and that time will heal you, when it’s only helping to kill you faster.