Lying Dandelions

Being the insolent coward you are, I'm not bemused in the least bit that you pushed me from behind, rendering me unguarded.
Before I even processed what had happened, I recall you striking your match and watching it fall as the flames erected and devoured me.
Defenseless to your secret ploy, I fell headfirst to the ground into a puddle of what I can only assume was gasoline.
I remember your evil cackle as you watched the fire burn and break me down into ashes and dust.
You thought that you had seen the last of me and my charred remains but, contrary to your beliefs, you were mistaken.
You can't kill what is already dead inside and I died a long time ago.
I've been through much worse than you.
Sometimes you have to kill the old parts of yourself that refuse to accept the truth and resurrect anew.
You left me burning in a growing cloud of smoke and smut but it wasn't long until I rose up from the ashes, like the phoenix I am, and stood on my own two feet.
Listen to my battle-cry, listen to my diligent song.
You did not win because the war hasn't even started yet.
Your grandiose scheme was for me to fail but I didn't.
Instead, I flourished.
I see you for what you are now; weak, unkind, and pathetic.
Somehow I want to thank you for forcing me out of your nest because in doing so, I have learned to spread my own wings and soar.
Away, this bird flies.
See, I'm a fine skylark and you're nothing but the same twisted jester you always were.
You never fooled me, I'm smarter than you ever gave me credit for.
I'm sad for you because you have remained obtuse and transparent.
I used to want to believe you had good inside of you, buried beneath all of your anger and insecurity.
Now I know it was foolish to ever think that you were capable of having a golden, pure heart.
You do not even know the consistence of it because love is foreign to your kind.
You always thought you could find happiness and love in someone else's bed, which is why you have skipped around so much from one home to another.
The putrid heart that beats inside of your chest is dark, clouded and black.
You weren't made like everyone else.
Something inside of you is absent.
I pray for you still because you are so spiritually corrupt.
You probably don't even have a soul.
Lord knows you lack a heart!
You also lack compassion, class, or tact to boot!
You are one foul creature and I hate your wretched stench.
Yes, I know you very well.
And I'll laugh as you one day burn in hell.

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