Whore

In this room I sit, maybe it’s a shell of my existence, maybe it’s where I’m meant to be. Dark with a candle burning slowly, as the night closes in I lay awake. This is what I’ve come to know, this is how far it goes, never enough to make me smile, more than enough to make me think. They say solitude breeds depression, well it’s bred a monster in me, a demon maybe, who knows. I’ve made friends with it, shared some stories, we get to spend a lot of time together monster and me. Filled with rage filled with hate, it’s my escape it’s my relate, I don’t care to hide him I don’t care to speak, monster and me we have a connection a common seek. To see pain in your eyes like you caused me, to see daggers through your chest like you stuck in my back. We’d like to see you fall, grating finger nails in the floor, this is where you belong you selfish whore, I won’t even burry you you don’t deserve the time. See this monster you created, fed it, gave it your blood, now that’s all it seeks, it’s got a scent and won’t stop till jagged teeth enslave your skin. Feel the pain as you lie there in your own red and think, back to the day you placed your blackened heart in my care, I stood there and washed it, protected it with my bare, hands that you destroyed. At the end you said it yourself, you lost me cause your own slutty actions, maybe next time close your legs instead of your morals. Now leave me be, monster and me.

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