To Whomever Wrote the Song "Love Hurts"

If bad language bugs you. Skip this. Otherwise, enjoy this insane rant!

To whomever wrote the song "Love Hurts,"

　

F**k you,

F**k your house,

F**k your siblings,

F**k your friends,

F**k the way you order burgers, always sending it back to have it more well done, just to push it away later, claiming it to be overcooked.

Yeah, f**k you,

F**k your sense of fashion,

F**k your pets,

F**k the weather you prefer upon waking in the morning.

F**k your kids,

You know what? Wait a minute.

If you don't have kids, f**k your reproductive organs. I hope they are riddled with a combination of AIDS, a yeast infection and whatever disease simply makes your s**t rot the f**k off.

I f*****g hate you,

I hate your f*****g song,

I hate everything you stand for,

Knowing you exist makes me want to pay someone to drive a hammer and chisel into my skull, rip open my cranium and piss in my brain. Afterwards, they would pour gasoline on my body and set me on fire. After that, they would wrench open my dead jaw and take a s**t in my mouth, take a selfie with it and mail it to every news and media outlet in the world #lookatwhatyoumademedo.

　

Thank you for taking the time for reading my letter and I hope you rot in hell.

Author's Note

This is obviously not a poem. However, I really hate this song and felt it necessary to divulge my feelings to a collection of strangers (the internet.) Enjoy my scream into the void!