Self-hatred

It is addictive. Used to it like the wicked bitter pills that one swallows to numb the pain, to block the feelings. Lethargic yet nerve-wracking; A tightness in the chest that never goes away. Faint, throbbing, persistent. It is inherent to me. the salinity of an ocean of tears, the chaos of a storm wrecked ship, the thorns of a lonely cactus. Never clears away by itself. Haunting like monsters, nauseating like rotten hopes, Appalling like oblivion, Repulsive like nightmares. One drinks it, Slowly. Like the morning cup of coffee, Bitter, gone cold. Yet addictive. Mine alone. -Ree