𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃

wretched

The taste of resentment is now familiar on my tongue. I can't remember the last time I spat out my anguish. Now, I just swallow it whole. Maybe then, they'll fill the hollowness in me. And maybe then, the anger won’t burn so much down my throat.