Ruiner

Your name stains my mind like blood on a white t-shirt. If I had it my way, you'd be stained like my mind. You ripped the wings off of a beautiful butterfly and pinned it to a black canvas. Now it's entire expression has obliterated and all to be seen is what blends in with the background. You repulse me. The very thought of you breathing fuels a fire inside and drags my sorrows out to see as they drown by the crashing waves you've created.
You took a perfect reflection and morphed into distaste and hate. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder but the eye beholds nothing because you've ripped away it's wings. You put out the fire that lit her eyes, you wilted such a beautiful rose, and after that rose bled out all of it's color nothing is left but death, darkness, and thorns.
But I can be the eye. I can behold her beauty. I see where her wings weren't cared for. I can see the match that will re-ignite her fire. I cannot undo what has been done to the rose, but I can bury it and grow a new one. You've created a wall and surrounded my rose. You let weeds grow, you let animals ravish, you've soiled it's environment and slowly let it rot.
You will never understand the full extent of what you've done, neither will I, but at least I have a clue. You don't own anyone. You're worthless. The vultures wouldn't even come after you. You deserve nothing and I hope you get less.