Dear Hatred,
I listened to you scream,
yell,
cry,
fight.
For days.
For weeks.
For years.
Ever since the day I had been born,
I have heard you
argue
through my bedroom walls,
under my bed covers,
through my tears.
My life has been
miserable.
All my fifteen years,
and you haven’t
even once
considered,
to stop,
for my own sake.
But now,
I sit on the corner
of a trashed intersection
holding up a cardboard sign,
like one of those
pathetic,
hopeless,
women,
that can only wait for a miracle
that won't come.
I ran away
from you.
Away from the
noise,
from the
abuse,
from all this
hate.
You have caused my life,
so much pain,
regret,
sorrow,
questioning of my
own existence.
I just tried
to run away from it all,
but you found a way
to make it worse.
You have made life
unmerciful,
and you continue to
torture me.
I have never been
wanted
by anyone.
So I guess it’s better now,
that I’m gone.
I hope you are happy.
Because I’m not.
I hate the world.
I hate life.
I hate you
I hate myself.