Murderous Intent

He spoke to me once of murderous intent

I was supposed to be afraid

I knew he had his reasons

The murder of someone who had hurt someone he loved

I wished I were someone he loved

For someone he loved he would murder a man

find him and stalk him and slit his throat

fulfilling my revenge fantasies

that the movies never fully satisfy

(especially when because they show the scene that needs revenge exacted to begin with)

.

turns out shared rage is a love language

.

sharpening my knife on the bottom of a coffee cup

indecisively hoping it will find purchase on flesh that was not allowed to touch me