/lit/ - Literature

I am fucking livid.
You're a fucking aneurysm made flesh I know will either kill me or put me in a gurney for the rest of what little life you'll allow me once I wake up from an existential fever dream, and I'm fucking losing.
I want out. I want this to be over. Just fuck off. Just fuck the fuck off you fucking fuck.
Fucking kill me then you fucking slithering piece of mental blight. You fucked me up. You fucked my head up. I can't fucking run from this fucking plague and it's your fault.
You did this. You gave me this fucking disease. Fuck you for this.

Look at me now.
A waste of skin because you're in it. You fucking biblical patchwork of desperately mended dead poetry, looming over my fucking head like a cancerous fucking rain.
Fucking rain down then.
Rain on me you cowardly fuck. You don't deserve to fucking live, so I'll blow out my brains so you'll catch that bullet at least as hard as I will.

What the fuck do you want from me?
I did everything. And right. I did everything right. Why can't you believe that? Why can't you leave me alone, you miserable fuck?
What's the point, you fucking parasite? You're me, for fuck's sake. Why do you want ME to die?
You make no fucking sense. Why are you like this? You're fucked in the head. In MY head.
And I want you fucking gone.
You fucking miscarriage. You fucking psycho ringworm from hell.
You're a fucking whore's discharge. You unholy, Gomorran, limbless cloud of toxic fucking guts.

They should put you on the wall of a fucking Cathedral to scare the altar boys harder than the priest with his cock in his wrinkly hand.
You're the discharge of an ungodly miscreant that fucking molests me like liquid aids on an open wound.
You fucking skinless, gutless, heartless parody of a godless thought.

Get the fuck out of my head.

Is there any profound, greater meaning to love, or does the fact that it's a just chemical process developed for mating and social unity as a survival tactic make it as meaningless as any other reflex?