Hidden cravings

My father ignored me and my mother was never truly there. She showed me love for an instant but then would go back to not giving a damn. Still my father was the better parent, he never pretended. I knew he hated me from the moment of my birth. I could never figure out how my mother actually felt.

One of my hidden cravings is that hate is ever present. I love it when a person shows me their darker side. When they try so hard to take my life. I love it when they push me away. It is the only thing that is real. By hating me you show me you care.

My father never really gave a damn. Ignored me as best he could it was my mother that fucked things up by showing me the brighter side of life. She made me smile, always laughing, but in the end even she ended up fading.

I wish she could have just let me know that I was worthless from the get go.

My hidden craving is that of rage. I love it when people attempt to break me. Ripe me apart like the trash I am. I can deal with rage, it is nothing new to me.

See I rather deal with the pain. Knowing I am hated is enough. I rather people not let me see the light before they shower me rust and dust.

My hidden craving is silence. That I know how to well. I wish people would leave me alone cause the music of life is pure hell.

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