Wrong night, you loud-mouth fuck. I know how big you are, I know how strong you are, I know that you will clean the alley or the parking lot or whatever with my ass. I know that you will stomp me, hurt me, break me. I know that even if you can't, your friends can, and I know that they will. I know that I'm fucked before the first punch is thrown.
I know this.
But you don't know.
You don't know that I want to hurt me more than you ever could. You don't know that I kiss your every strike, that I thrive in the pain you provide.
You don't understand that you are a blessing, with your anger and your violence.
And you don't understand that you will never be able to give me enough.
I will hold it against you.
I will keep coming back for more, long after you are tired, and when you can't provide the hurt, I will take my rage out on you.
Broken and bloody, I will destroy you.
Because you are just another failed thing, and I can't handle that right now.