Epithet.

It is so strange. So upsideded. I have so many words to say, but no sentence to bulid. I have epithets for you. Dearly hurtfull. But I dont have any spark to scream. I am so tired of you, exhausted. Please leave, run, my dear. Cause part of me hates the idea of your existence. That little girl you humiliated every chance you got hates every idea of you. I hate you.