An Intrinsic Exquisite

 

I wish I could

burn them in effigy with everything they stand for, and walk away from this man and everything he perpetuates of them in my life

I despise my heritage

 
I hate

 

my mother

I hate

 

my father

I hate

 

those two

I hate

 

the mother who traipsed, giggled, and spewed inanities while flirting wildly and asexually, drink in hand, head held high. it's impossible not to admire her. it's impossible not to care. but I hate her even more for that, for stealing my attention, for making me think she might one day be more than what she is

I hate

 

the father who betrayed everything he was in order to descend to the level of curiosity for its own sake. insatiable and incurable and haunted. he was a living horror movie. you hear about people like this, larger than life and the worst that can be imagined

I hate my parents because I think they have maimed me, stolen my luck, made it impossible for me to ever love and be loved back quietly, gently, real-ly