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Apr 2017
Self-hate rises like bile from the pit of my stomach and claws away at my throat -
the kind of pure loathing for which there is no antidote.
Revulsion of my reflection has claimed possession and poisoned me well;
and led to a destructive path that is the equivalent of Hell.
Shay
Written by
Shay  27/F
(27/F)   
947
   kim and Keith Wilson
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