I ate it.
But, it was too late.
Too late for the rush that I needed.
Too late for the rush that would satiate my feelings of hate.
Too late for me, Cate, to swallow my pride – too late to tell the tale of the hate that I ate.
And, in the knowing, the knowing that, already, it was too late –
too late for me, Cate, I carried on and ate some more.
On and on I ate, on and on until all of hate
became the tale of my
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2019