Sunday morning. I`m embracing my loneliness. I`m finally starting to appreciate it. I`m finally sure I can make it without you. I`m finally convinced that you are a hoax, an illusion, a lie.
I am alone. And I love the way the pain furiously tries grabbing my insides, trying to devour me and all I can do is feel the numbness.
Hate is my most sincere and sweet anesthesia.
You are nothing to me now.
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