forgingFennec

What's mine..? my room is mine everything there is mine including the curtains including the bed everything in my room... I'm sure it's mine my deeds are mine you're not supposed to tell me what to do you're not supposed to give me unquestioned advice you're not supposed to command me to do anything 'cause my deeds are making me me so they can only be mine alone my beard is mine no-one can tell me how to wear my beard or even how to grow it especially not those who are not bearded they mustn't tell me anything about my beard 'cause they don't know anything about it why do people think they can tell me what to do? why do pe

just hatred I look into your face and see anger I look deeply inside me and I'm afraid of what I see somehow I already knew and in some way, I always hoped, I hoped that this feeling would never surface that I could bury it deep inside my heart I hoped that I'd never have to feel this hatred a hatred so strong that im not sure, I wonder, if it's just hatred, I don't know how to call it, this unbearably strong feeling there is no adequate word no word can say what I feel nor can anything I could do so I fall silent this feeling sprawls from the depths of my heart a feeling I can't vanquish, a feeling I can't deny it spreads