The Human Filth

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Sucking in the scent through swollen red nostrils.
Muffling my cries with my skin
Turning to whimpers. 
Biting the air and screaming why
I am the Human Filth
My lungs clench and squeeze the very strength I have left.
During this short lived moment 
A short-temper I frustrate with
Searching for a confirmation for my being what I am,
I am the Human Filth
He held my head there facing my mother wanting to turn away with my shame
But he wanted me clearly to hear her
“You are selfish!”
As if I didn’t know that
As if I wasn’t already fighting myself over it?
I am the Human Filth
Her time becomes invasive 
And I am forced to listen
I had let myself go deeper into the woods
A place where no one comes out.
I am not myself anymore
May as well be nothing at all
With a blood who doesn’t understand not to touch a red stove when it’s hot.
And it all falls on me after
I thought I finally had it.
He comes back to twist my head and whisper loose sims to rattle my thoughts.
His favorite, he tells me, is
I am the Human Filth

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