That’s all there’s left
Of the childhood, filled
With dirt roads, and mangoes
And a tyre swing on a banyan tree.
You were there, and I was there.
Hitting, pulling hair, name calling
Shouting, Pinching, Punching
Kicking, Stonewalling, Crying.
Would you ever calm down?
You useless piece of dirt?
Your hair ruffled, pants torn, unknott tie
Shirts missing buttons, shoes missing lace
Socks torn, smelling of dead rats
Your mouth spewing anger and mirth
Not a word of comfort to the distressed
Not a finger to wipe away a tear
Existing and agonizing, hitting and running
You make my innocence imperfect
Making me want to throw stones at you
When our parents forced us to be friends
And you hit me, and punch me, and slap me,
And I return with all the force I can muster
You ignorant prat, you Oedipal child
Your presence made me gag
Your discomfort made me smile
Your failure made me happy
And you have grown up, and so have I
You, left behind in your small, empty town
Still a mama’s darling, living a lie
As I grow bigger and better, stronger and brighter
And you live with those memories
Where you bullied me, and laughed
And I live my life, full and worthy
And laugh at you, as you fail everything
But I don’t regret it. You still make
My blood boil with hatred.
Pure, innocent, benign hatred
From the darkest pits of my bones, to the hallowed beatings of my cold heart.