His hatred festered as only hate can - deep in the gut.
It nourished him.
Gave his life the little meaning it had.
Made sense of Monday’s shitty promise:
The five schooldays coming.
The week sprawled out in front of him.
All those crushing, tedious hours.
That awful journey from controlling class
To controlling class…
To controlling home.
And then back again.
Yes, Sunday’s death-routine too
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