Five

Written 25/01/2025 13.59pm

Because of the innate sense of humour I was sadly born with, its not as clear as I’d like to be that I am rage personified; fury in human in form. I am ferocious, I am furious, I am hateful, I am so fucking angry.

I was a disagreeable child and I am a disagreeable woman. Disagreeable in its commonly know sense but also - I must highlight - I did not agree to be on this earth. I did not give my consent. In fact, I’m sure I would have aborted myself had I had the chance. I have been protesting against my existence with every ounce of my being since day one and I’m still fucking here. I DONT WANT TO BE!

The word that feels most natural for me to speak is NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO. Fuck off.

I hate my mother, I despise my father, I want to spit on both of their graves but they aren’t fucking dead yet. I want to smash my head into every wall within a 10 mile radius.

I do not like life. I do not want it.

This is a reflection of an absolute hatred of my parents. I want to cough up venom and throw it in their faces. I hope to be the mirror that shows them how disgusting they are. I am a reflection of them, I hate them so much I wish I wasnt born. They are failures. I want them to know that. Nothing, no other “achievement” covers this one up. I want them to see me and flinch, I want them to want to feel a desperate urge to avert their gaze because to look directly at me is it to look at the revolting content of their souls. Dont look away motherfuckers. I HATE you. I have screamed it, I have said it, I have run as far from you as I can but still you pursue me. So here it is, take a look. You’d wish you’d just left me alone. This shit is ugly and you two losers can’t handle it. Let’s hope it destroys you, I pray for failure of whatever organ sits where your hearts should be. Only then will I ever know peace.