The last time we spoke
I swallowed my decency
It was enough
Enough of drowning the anger in my bedroom
That was constantly flooded with depression
It was enough
Enough feeling ashamed at how my blood boiled
It was he who was to be ashamed
It was he who was indebted to me
For all the years of
Finding
Which no longer found food acceptable
Yet fed on pain, lulling it with spirits and beer for breakfast.
I was tired
I still am.
But the last time I saw him I told him
That the hatred I have for him has outgrown the love I had
Has formed itself into a mountain in the place where I used to feel pity.
As the words left my chest
Like water breaking uncontrollably
A shallow pool of saliva built itself on the ground before him
At that moment I felt myself becoming again
A product of pain finally taking pride in bitterness
I wasn’t ashamed anymore
I hated from that day and have never felt it shameful
I will hate again another day
And it will not hurt.
Hazel is an author, photographer and aspiring filmmaker. She is also the Founder of Balang Press an organization that encourages