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.
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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 More