I hate him.
Late at night and early in the morning I hear his deafening screams. Those horrible, screeching, grating sounds traveling across that deep, dark alleyway through my bedroom window and pounding at my eardrums. I hate it. I can't stand it. Won't he shut up?
In the day I see him. To the untrained eye he is simply a man but I know better. I feel as if I am the closest person to him. I am the only one who knows his dirty secrets. I can't help it, being his next door neighbor. Just like how he can't help being so fucking loud.
I hate him.
YOU ARE READING
Inspiration World
PoetryA book of ominous one-shots. Please read if you are •in need of ideas •tired •bored •in debt •want to cry •want to forget •listen to podcasts •want to enter an interesting head-space •love women •hate actress Emily Blunt •are still awake •procrasti...
