"My Love" by Renee Mercado

If you were a dinosaur, my love, I'd be the asteroid that annihilates you, the inevitable end decided light-years before you laid eyes on me, a fate sealed the very moment the possibility of you existing was born. Your dreams already crushed into grains of sand, melted into glass by my enraged inferno, shattered millenniums before you could open your eyes, its dust being blown into those eyes, tainting your vision of the world from the start, as the shards of those useless aspirations are fed to you by those just as helpless as yourself. 

If you were an ocean, I'd be the pollution that fills you with oil and filth and the future of children, the global warming that heats you up, killing everything inside you, those you love floating lifelessly within your waters. A preventable cause that went ignored, a tumor gone unnoticed, growing slowly into the malignant being that binds you to a chair and forces you to rely on a metal vat to breathe, rooted too deep and found too late in your system to save you. 

My love, how wrong you were to cross me. To betray the hands that took pity upon you and conquered your demons for you, the hands that rose you from their ashes and fed and nurtured you, tended to your wounds as you recovered your strength and as you stole some of mine, like a bloodsucking leech with your mouth latched tightly onto my flesh, burning the surface with your toxic bile and infecting me with your unholiness. There is no honor in thievery. You were a helpless damsel in distress that I took a chance on, and now you're merely a miserable mortal in my eyes, scum, having nothing to offer but hate and disgust, memories that bring back nothing but pain. 

Oh, my dear, how you will pay for it all. My fists will rule the earth with the wrath of God, rain down fires that'll cleanse the earth of your sins. The roars of the flames will drown out your anguished cries, but you will never suffer enough. In no reality would anything that I could ever do match the amount of pain you had caused me. No number of plagues or wars would ever reach how much you'd hurt me, the absolute and complete eradication of all my faith in love and the inner turmoil you waged in my heart excels all that a nuclear holocaust has to offer. 

The extent of your evil goes beyond the sickest thing Lucifer could ever conceive. The righteous punishment I’ll inflict upon your disgraced soul will steal the very essence of your being, eat away at all that you believe in, just as you had done to me. Nothing and no one can save you. You're trapped in my game, forced to play by my rules. There's no escaping me, at least not until I decide so. I'll eventually become bored of your pathetic screaming and the torture will no longer be as fun. You'd have already gotten tired of crying and begging for mercy after finally realizing that there's no way out. If you still had some humanity left after all the torture I’d put you through, you'd lose it in no time as the isolation will drive you to insanity, thoughts that'd torture you more severely than I could myself, digging itself into the depths of your mind, creating a special hell just for you, finally leaving you a shell of person. The thoughts will suck you in and tear you apart from within, destroying your very existence, the person who your loved ones used to know. The process will be quick, and your death will mean nothing. No one will remember you.