His Poisoned Rose
That wretched, venom-laced voice that I thought I buried in the past.
"You are filth. A pit of darkness and sin. No one will ever love you. No one has, no one can, and no one ever will. You destroy everything you touch. The best they can do is suffer you. The worst? They will hate you before they die, and it will be your fault.”
My jaw clenches, my grip tightening until the cigarette snaps between my fingers, but still, I don’t move. The words slither through my veins like poison, and I hate that they still have the power to burn.
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