A certain someone said—

"You’re ugly, Unpleasant."

Out of rage, maybe. Out of anger, perhaps.

"I will make your life a living hell." And you swore I was lying.

He told me I was like the devil. I smiled and whispered— "Oh? Only now do you take notice, when I have long been the storm’s whisper— a fire untamed, a shadow unfazed, a reckoning etched in time."

You said I had feelings for you.

Really?

"You’re lucky you know— because I never once realized there was anything to know."

He said he hates me.

Oh?

I was not born to be pleasing, nor crafted for admiration. I was not shaped by fragile hands, nor built to bend beneath expectation.

Let him seethe, let him scorn— what of it? The sun does not dim for those who curse its light.

I exist not to be liked, but to be unwavering.

He said I was crazy. Oh, really?
That’s nothing new—why did it take you this long to realize? What a shame.

Manipulate me all you can
I can gaslight you in return.