You taunt me with a smirk of satisfaction
Especially when you elicit a provoked reaction
I wonder why you needle so deliberately
What joy comes from injuring so perceptively?
My returned insults--hard, reactive thrusts
Blade left embedded deep until it rusts
No apology enough to pull it free
Even if I cared for you to forgive me
Perhaps it is your road to superiority
Paving over your feared inferiority
I rationalize: that venom must come from pain
By inflicting hurt, you feel some kind of gain
My despising unabated by such justification
Nor stops that vindictive retaliation
Which sinks me to your level at my cost
That you thus diminish me, I hate the most
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