RITUAL OF SPITE

You wanted honesty?

Here’s the fucking truth—

I AM WHAT ROTS.

I spit teeth into the gutter just to feel alive,

I drag my nails through flesh like I’m peeling off a lie.

Every scream I steal becomes fuel for the rage—

Another body folded, another chapter on the page.

Your blood on my hands feels like clarity,

A perfect little moment of brutality.

I grind your bones into dust on my tongue—

A bitter reminder of what I’ve become.

I don’t want peace,

I want violence.

I want to carve your silence

Into the world you ruined.

I’LL RIP YOU OPEN JUST TO PROVE YOU BLEED.

SNAP YOUR SPINE LIKE YOU DID TO ME.

I am the curse you tried to ignore,

The walking reminder you can’t kill anymore.

THERE IS NO MERCY IN MY SKIN.

I’LL DRAG YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU WISH IT WAS SIN.

Your world ends beneath my feet—

This is a ritual written in meat.

I tear you apart with the hate you fed,

Let your ribs bloom open like a flower of the dead.

I stomp your skull ‘til the pavement caves,

Leaving what’s left of you trapped in the stains.

Broken bones play symphonies under my heel,

A soundtrack of agony that’s painfully real.

Every crack is a prayer, every splatter a hymn—

I choke on the filth and exhale the sin.

YOU WANT A MONSTER?

Congratulations—

You fucking made one.

FLESH.

TEARS.

GOD.

FEARS.

I’ll carve the truth into your fucking throat—

You’re not a victim.

You’re a footnote.

I’LL RIP YOU OPEN JUST TO PROVE YOU BREAK.

EVERY LIE YOU BREATHED WAS A MISTAKE.

I am the consequence crawling through your door, The ghost of your sins dripping in gore.

I AM EVERYTHING YOU TRIED TO BURY.

THE SPITE YOU BUILT — THE WEIGHT YOU CARRY.

No peace, no light, no last resort…

Just you…

And my ritual…

OF FUCKING SPITE.