A bullet to the brain or a laceration on your lips, I’m wondering which will make a bigger statement. Which would make me feel better inside? Your soul is darker than the coffee I drink every morning and I wish there was a way for me to surgically remove it from you so that you can see the black hole you’ve created within yourself. Oh, sarcasm and deception were great in the short term, but you forgot about the ripple that a sadist with a vendetta can create. What started out as an ebb in the pond has grown to a tidal wave of epic proportions, hiding just over the horizon, ready to collapse with it everything you once held dear. And now I’ve tricked you into thinking you can swim out of any mess, but your fate rests in my mercy, or whatever mercy I feel it is that you deserve.