A Dish Best Served Cold

Did I

cause this pain?

I think I did,

but I can’t feel remorse.

My feelings

are flat,

I don’t feel the pulsing

emotional line

of empathy.

.

I tried

to keep my head down

and live without incident.

But that failed

and life spiraled.

It was her fault really.

.

I kept my end

and never told her

as she vomited to me

what I thought of her.

At each word of disagreement,

I kept silent

until I reach a human safe haven

to which I could spill

my poisonous witch’s brew.

.

But a broken confidence

slipped and tripped

out another person’s

eager mouth.

They gave her the ability

to see my green poison

and bitten red apple.

She was no longer

color-blind

and the transition

hurt.

.

At her pain

I got my long awaited

dish of revenge

served at the perfect temperature.

I wasn’t flaming red

in passionate anger.

I was a calm and collected blue

and even before her eyes

were fully opened,

she could see that.

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