There are
worse things you stupid bitch!
There are
worse things than the image of the only man you loved fucking your friend and
sucking her tits.
There are
worse things than crying yourself to sleep every night, and wishing, hoping
praying for something to happen; some message, some letter, some random act of
kindness to prove to you that you are in fact worthy, that your sad pathetic
life and your pathetic dreams are not meaningless, that despite the abusive men,
the disconnected family, the indifferent friends, there is still a
reason to wake up every morning.
There are
worse things you shallow, self-centred loser; there are children dying, there
are wars, there are terminally ill people in dirty cold wards.
You hold on
to old rusty keys that fit nowhere, you knock on doors that won’t open. Inside
you there’s a cave, within another cave, within a well, within an endless black
hole, a darkness fathomless and infinite.
You died a
million times, it’s hard to look in the mirror, it’s hard to remember! “If only
I was someone else, somewhere else” you’ve been murmuring for the past 25 years.
