I Need to Vent

You're fucking vile. Your worth is that of a pile of rotting excrement.

How would you feel if you knew how disgusting I find you? That you make me want to literally vomit?
That my skin crawls when I hear your voice, hearing you approach?

Every time I look at you I feel deep rooted loathing and disgust. Your existence bears no meaning other than to be a burden and vile filth.