You retaliate when you're hurt. You want to inflict as much pain on the person as he or she did on you. It goes on, repetitively; becomes a horrible joke.
Gives you insight on what people you care (or not) think of you. What runs through their mind at every gesture you make, every glance, every syllable falling off from your tongue. Maybe buried deep, but shallow enough to be lashed out when probed. And here's some old news: it hurts. A little less for some, maybe. You can brush it off now, but the next time you think you're all alone, wallowing in an abyss as tendrils of self-loathing and pity entwine themselves around you, it all comes back, magnified. Restraining, suppressing.
Lies. Thinking you're not good enough, knowing someone thinks you're not good enough. Sour. Turning vindictive, resentful and spiteful because you think the world's turned its back on you and who knows? Maybe the world's not as small as you think. Bitterness, and you're trying to swallow it down; you choke on it, you gag on it until black dots appear in your vision, bile rises in your throat, and you bite on your lip, your tongue (a metallic scent invades), as it stifles your mind, smothers your thoughts, grips you in its hold, and the spaces close in on you.
Still it refuses to go down.
Maybe you don't care as much as you think you do. Maybe it's all a joke to you. Maybe the agony's been going on for so long it's no longer clear what it's all about. Maybe...maybe it was you all along.
Laugh out loud. You can snort at the absurdity of it all and kick yourself. You can go out, make amends, give love, but you can't take it back. As fleeting as feathers in the wind. They get away from you, and takes bits and pieces of you with them. And they get stuck on other people. With that, you either drown them with your weight, or you get brushed off, to tail them and maybe, drown someone else.
And the cycle starts all over again.