I don't want to hate you. It makes me sick that I do. You were my best friend when I was whole. When I broke you cast me aside. My chest burns when I see you. An acid builds in my throat when you speak. Why did you make me like you? Why did you make me hate you?
Every time I see you I wish I could hurt you. Either physically or emotionally. I see nothing but red. Just the thought of you makes me sick. You always ruin my day with a single thought. Red and only red.
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