All Out of Spite

All that she does- is done out of spite. Her spite masquerades as defiance. She lives out of spite, breathes out of spite, and one day will die out of spite. When she is no longer willing to act defiant- to carry her spiteful nature in her chest.

She forced the words into her head, dove into trenches of knowledge out of spite- not wanting to give anyone else the chance to make her feel less than. Tired of the aggressive barrage for not knowing- she knows now out of spite.

It's acts of defiant that cover up the spite coating her every move. She is still breathing because out of spite, she burns in her chest like an engine. It's been burning for ages, and it'll keep burning. She doesn't give up- she wasn't allowed to before, why would she start now?- It's a voice from the fire in her chest, deep and antagonistic.

She is quiet out of spite- counter intuitive she was never heard before, and she won't be heard again. They wished her silent- so silent she is. All out of spite- her words swirl in her mind, gagged in her throat, she doesn't make a sound. No one listened before- they didn't like to- and they still won't listen, so now they don't get the choice. They won't listen to you so they'll hear me. It's that voice again, chastising her before she forgets what it was like before she was warm. A reminder that it's her spite keeping her cords warm, that when her mouth opens it's her but it they hear.

Her words drip with venom, coated in honey- she is disguised like the traps she fell for. Cynicism presented as realism, she wasn't always like this- the fire burned out all her hope. She doesn't trust, she doesn't give anyone room to hurt her. Out of spite she guards herself, something she once wished someone did.

Ironclad walls- near indestructible- they weren't always. Before the fire was lit- before she carried on to prove a point. Her walls used to be fragile, toppled over with a whisper. It was trial and error to get them this tall and this strong.

Her heart is bolstered by spite- loving how she wanted all those ages ago, before the fire was lit. She can't recall when she felt love for the first time- but it wasn't what she thought it was supposed to be. She was right. It felt cold- unwelcoming, unwarranted, unwanted. It wasn't love. She wouldn't know love- not truly. She loves in ways she wished she was. Deeply, truly, compassionately. She's afraid of what could come with love- she's afraid of patterns repeating, she doesn't want a cold, detached, lying love. Not like before. It's her spite- nestled in her heart.

All you ever wanted was to feel- feel something worthy of anything. It's a mantra the voice repeats. Her fire burns hotter and darker. All she truly wanted was to feel worth it. Doing so out of spite she trudges along waiting for another motive.

Her defiant nature- keeps her going to prove a point. To prove that she can do it. Not for herself, she does it all to prove them wrong- to shove it in their face that she's not what they said. She is what she is- a bitch, maybe-stubborn, absolutely- defiant, all day. She is a manifestation of her spite, of the fire that warms her.

All that she does- is done out of spite. Her defiant nature made to cover up her spiteful look. She lives out of spite, and one day will die out of spite. She is still breathing because her spite is burning the fire in her chest. When she is no longer willing to carry her spiteful nature in her chest, she will prove her point.