Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold
Revenge is a dish best served cold,and in my silence I forged the edge of my name. I didn’t seek your shadow, nor your late apology;I only learned that ice can also become a man. I kept your lies like a broken map,each line marking where I stopped being blind. I don’t wish you harm, nor some distant fate;my justice is simple: I no longer bow. Revenge is not fire, nor shouting, nor wounds;it is walking without you, without weight, without fear.It is knowing your absence left my soul upright,and that the cold, in the end… made me whole. And my heart, at last, learned to beat in the cold.











