She hates me.
She absolutely hates me.
There is no question about it.
She pushes me down,
then she kicks me in the gut.
She keeps on kicking me.
It is never-ending pain.
She kicks,
and kicks,
and kicks.
It
Doesn't
Stop.
She leaves me there,
lying on the cold, hard ground.
She leaves me with nothing left.
No.
I'm wrong.
She doesn't leave me with nothing.
She leaves me with these feelings.
These feelings of weakness.
Of worthlessness.
Of unimportance.
Of anger.
Not anger at her,
but at me.
She leaves me feeling pain.
Feeling defeated.
Feeling stupid.
Feeling hatred.
Not hatred at her,
but at me.
She leaves me
with all of these things.
No.
I'm wrong again.
She doesn't leave.
No.
She never leaves me.
Never.
She is the cause of these things.
I hate her for it.
I really hate her for it.
She doesn't leave me alone.
She is always there
whispering these things
these things into my ear.
She likes to trick me.
She likes to trick me a lot.
She presents to me the allusion
the allusion that she has left me.
Not left me forever,
but still left me.
Then,
she laughs in my face.
She laughs at my stupidity.
She takes the good memories,
and squash them
squash them under her toe like a cockroach.
I hate her.
There is no doubt about it.
She breaks my body.
Sticks and stones
may break these bones
or they may not.
It depends
depends on the blows
on how hard the blows are.
She tears me apart
from the
inside
out.
She starts in the brain.
She ends in the brain.
She never leaves the brain.
Sticks and stones
may break these bones,
but words will
Always
Kill
Me
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
Historia CortaThis book is going to be made up of different short stories written by me. Each story will be one chapter long, but you will know based off of the title of it goes over onto another chapter. I will be attempting to update once a week, but no promi...
