An Angry Letter, unsent...

Dear _____________,

Why the fuck won't you send me my pictures? Do you realize this makes you more of a scumbag than that  fat englishman who took six months to pay me back the 400 dollars he borrowed, at least he had the excuse of not having a job. What fucking excuse do you have for being such a prick? Is the postal service too complicated for you? Do you not understand how to buy stamps? Was it not enough to break my heart, must you now humiliate me further by withholding this one last thing? Keeping me tethered to my mail box always searching for word of you? You are a fucking asshole. There is no question about it, you are a prick. I shall stick to what I said last August; of all the scum bags I have known you are by far the worst. At least the others were decent enough to feel shame.

And I'd send you this letter but I can not see the point. I loved you once at expense of myself. It cost me pieces of my heart, my mind, my soul,  my freedom, my body, my energy, my spirt, and my hope. And once you'd spent your pieces of eight, you made off like a pirate with the bounty of my love.  So may you grow like a onion with your head in the ground.  Even with all your layers you are forever upside down and obscured by dirt. You make me want to spend my nights looking up Yiddish curses. If I met you on the street or outside of the acupuncturists office I could hurl them at you the way the British and French forces compelled themselves over the battlements at the Somme.

Do the right thing and know that I will not think poorly of you. Or don't and know that I should hope to see you on one leg and that you should see me with one eye.

Shalom,
TGG