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Tuesday, 26 August 2014


I went back to the birth of hatred, no further back,
even further back still, with a cudgel to beat the newborn
to a pulp, to kill it even before it had stuck its head out,
before the first gulp of worldly air, the first cry, my attack
would be surprise, out of the blue, the red mist ghosting
through the network of my veins like a rollercoaster 
in a theme park, my head dizzy, my heart thumping,
my chest heaving with intoxicating vengeance, boasting
that I would be the one from now to go back to then,
the hero of the lets-kill-this-fucking-thing and start over,
but hatred was out before I reached the ward doors,
and no amount of hopeless quests would drag it back in again. 

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