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If I should have it my way…
I’d etch in your skin the letters of my name with a serrated knife


No. You don’t deserve a plain sharp blade.
I want the edges to grab the layers of your pale skin, one after the other, digging deeper at every thrust. If I should have it my way, I’ll maim you very slowly so you would feel the throbbing pain I endured as you carelessly (or cautiously) stabbed me from behind.

No. You don’t deserve clean cuts.
You will bleed a great deal until you drown in the depths of your despair and misery. If I should have it my way, I will leave your mangled heart and soul in the cradle of the cold, heartless night so you would suffer the grief of an exile with nothing but puddles of tears by your side.

Have I marred you enough?
No. You need to remember my name. I want you to trace every letters etched on your skin.


The name you once thought was synonymous to weak, naïve, pathetic, and misfit. The name which once reminded you of a woman who loves green, mature yet childish, loud but quiet, rough yet sweet, smart but easily deceived. The damsel in distress without her knight in shining armor.

I want you to trace those very letters and look me in the eyes—to see a monster. No. Don’t think too highly of yourself, dear. You didn’t create me, I have a monster deep inside. You simply awakened the beast.

Now, if I should have it my way…
I’d shower you anguish. Feel my wrath.

This is madness scribbled on a piece of paper. After I saw my friend’s post in Facebook with the “B” word, I knew then that her beast-mode is on. The monster is unleashed.

Argh! I dread the distance in between us! I haven’t heard the whole news from her yet but here’s how I imagined her wrath must be. Love you, Fat(P.S. She really is a naughty angel most of them time!)