Pin-prick

Patience is a virtue, and I am not there yet. Forgive me, but I too, have limits.
It hurts, although it shouldn't. Your words are meaningless, yet they shoot. They don't miss.
Somehow I think the goal was acheived. It accomplished it's desired effect, because I have swallowed your insults and they lie in my stomach, not moving not stirring. They stay in the pit, and when they try to stretch, it hurts.

It hurts.

But I know you don't have what I have. And that is, the ability to think before speaking. I feel that perhaps you lost it when you were growing up. Perhaps you lost it in the laundry. Or maybe you never had it at all.
I have heard many things from you, but nothing that makes sense to me, not much of it. I have heard nothing that I would admire, hardly anything.

I commited to a fantasy.
You are the reality.
I was let down.

I made a mistake with you, and for that I will always be sorry for. But I would never regret it. Because I feel that regret is a useless emotion.
But I know, God has mercy.

And I know that you cannot harm me, with your words or otherwise.
No good shall come out of threatening me.
I am not afraid of you, you talk big but you are very small indeed.
I pity you, something I never wanted to do.

Pity is a sad word, like the loneliest dog in the world. Thin, handicapped and wet from the rain.
But still not as bad as you.

I keep your words with me. Against you.
Just. In. Case.

Forgive my bitterness, I needed to let this out. I am alright though, thank you.