The words halted in my mouth,

my tongue catching on fire.

I ached to tell you of the hate I harbored,

but my heart stumbled.

Where had my courage gone?

You were right, and I was wrong. 

And that was where my courage went.

My ego was hurt.

But I moved on, knowing that whatever pride you had left was nothing but shit.

I longed to tell you what a cruel person you had become. I longed to remind you of your whorish actions.

And I imagined the look of hurt on your face, the immense amount of satisfaction I would feel by belittling you.

But I would only be lowering myself to your standards. Granted, you were the daughter of a bitch; granted, your attitude had the face of a poop-fest. Let's not forget that you deserved nothing more than to be insulted. 

I thought to myself, if I loathed you that much, why would I want to act like you had?

And then I realized, you were nothing more than the ground beneath my shoes. Nothing more than the insignificant wind that blew against my face. 

So I saved my time, because you were not worth wasting it.