It fills me with ruth and empathy
as you continue to mark my body with cuts and burns,
delighting over my forsaken will to fight the hostility
sucking away even the last few droplets of hope and elation.
I willingly embrace all your tortures and afflictions
for I am engraving my pictures in your mind
like scars of the battle-wounds that never heal
erasing the fortuity of you getting away from me.
I wouldn’t threaten to kill you at once
for there would be no pain or penance.
What I want for you is a slow and painful death
that you will face each day until you get tired and decide to strangle yourself.
For I’ve heard that memories are the best slow poisons
that guarantee a prolonged suffering,
haunting you at places and times
making sure you get addicted to the anamnesis.