Starless Imperium

Morgan Argor Strange, Science Fiction Horror Author


I know I am fat, and ugly, and undesirable.
Just a number, like a concentration camp tattoo
2.5 out of 10.
I was always a black sheep too.
Others got videos of happy times, filled with laughter;
Childish revelry, like it’s the early 2000s again.

I got stuck in the eye with a broken pen.

Redpill me. Neg me. It doesn’t hurt.
I already know I’m garbage.
I already know there’s nothing I deserve but pain.
“How fucked up would someone have to be to love someone like you?”
“You’re a whore.”
“I’m not attracted to you.”

You stupid fucking bitch.
Maybe if you lost some weight you’d be worth . . .

A person like me will never be worth anything
Because I am too late to a party that I was never invited to.

I am garbage.
I got what I fucking deserved.

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