It’s been months since the cat got in. A stray. It taunts me. I heard it last night coming home, I put my key in the lock, scurrying on the other side. Like a cockroach it was gone when I turned on the lights, it abhors them. I’ll destroy the beast one of these days. If it ever comes out of the shadows.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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