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Sometimes, we simply hate ourselves.

Submitted:Jul 10, 2012    Reads: 22    Comments: 3    Likes: 1   

I drag my fingers up to my hair line and dig the nails in. Between my tense palms I stare into the hateful eyes of the monstrosity in the mirror. He stares back. His eyebrows are so displaced that they have began to obscure the pupils and cast wicked shadows on his face. I grind my teeth along the left side and see my reflection do the same, staring at me as if ready to leap through the glass and tear the skin from my bones. But not before I get his. By god, I will destroy him. The angry fool, the sickening arsehole, the twisted bastard! The hater, the hater, the hater. How I hate him! Useless with words, useless with hands, only good for one thing. Hate. Hating and being hated. Spiteful scourge, your game is finished! What was your goal, you wretched ghoul? What do you want? You won't get it, swine, you won't. I'll strip your bones bare before I give you an inch! Bah, how dare you! How dare you I say! Speak! Empty pit, I despise you. I hate you, I resent you, I will burn you from within. How did something as vile as you breach this world? From where? The pits of hell, you vermin. That's where you're from. So much hatred, concentrated into such as small vessel. It's no wonder you're so thick with malice. So warped by shadow and tainted by rage. Be gone! I will mangle you, as a warning to the world. I will mark you as a hater and a lesser man. With scars! Or death. Or both.


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