I fucking Hate you.

I used to love you. But you fucking broke me. I can’t have one normal conversation with another human, I can’t smile. Can’t laugh! Because you broke me. You ****. I hope you rot and are miserable for eternities. I used to only be suicidal, now that’s changed into homicidal. I used to be sad, so sad. That’s gone now. I don’t feel anything, except ANGER now. Pure hatred.  I think if it was my choice to let you live or die, i’d finally smile, watching you burn.  I fall asleep thinking about, I dream about it. Dream of your death. I fantasize over it. Just to watch you suffer would be the best thing life could offer me. I want you to hurt. Like I do. But worse. You tore me into a thousand different pieces, and burnt what was left, little by little, again and again. How fucking dare you tell me you love again, how dare you torment me saying you still love me.  What is wrong inside that tiny little head of yours? I promise to God if you call me, if you say one word to me on my birthday. I’ll go crazy. You’ve wasted and defiled three years of my life, no need to fuck up however many I have left.  It’s like you almost enjoy making me suffer and you make me sick, you’re a pig. A despicable person. You say the reasons you hurt me so I God’s plan? Really? As if you’re some fucking saint.  You act like you’re some damn saint. How many times have you sucked me off? How many times have you just randomly started going off on me, whether it be in the car, the movie theater, at your parents house. You’re no damn saint, you’re a fucked up piece of shit. You think you’re doing the right things, You’re not doing anything right, you never have, and never will. If there is a hell I can’t wait to see you there, *****. I want you dead. I’d give my life for that. After all, what you’ve done to me there isn’t much of it left. I’m a hollow, soulless being stuck in a shell. People can’t stand the sight of me.  I have no humanity left me. I can’t be a human ever again. Recent deaths in the family occurred, what did I do, what did I say? I said it’s bound to happen, and I insulted many people for no reason. I have no emotion, I have no empathy. I have nothing left, but the anger and madness, which you left me alone with. When I cut myself, I don’t cry, don’t scream, i don’t think about it twice, don’t even notice the pain. I pray, hope, beg. That it kills me. But I can never get drunk enough to go deeper, and when sober I always fuck it up anyways.  Just look at the fucking way I talk now. I. I’m done. Fuck yourself. See you in hell, *****.