There is a hatred that festers under your skin, so visceral and primal, a contempt for yourself that you dare not speak aloud. The hatred burns, scorching flames peeling away at your skin. The fire does not rebirth you; you are no phoenix.
Read MoreI am an old haunt frequented by the cruel, unforgiving ghosts of loneliness.
Read MoreI stared listlessly at the darkness beyond my window, the faint reflection of my face in the glass, and nothing else…
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