[Edna.]: 246.I hate

I hate not feeling anything when I
see dead children in my room every evening at 9 o'clock.
I hate not feeling anything when I
hear myself say that you're actually dead.
I hate hearing your voice in my head,
screaming at me to fucking stop!
I hate knowing that you're hunting me,
watching every step I take.
I hate knowing the air that I breathe
is nothing but the poisoned breath of you.
I hate not feeling anything when I
break all the bones that I have in my body.
I hate not remembering
why there's blood on my hands and a fire behind me.
I hate not remembering
why they sharpen long knives upon the rusty hills.
I hate not feeling anything when I'm
enticed by the echo of your uncanny voice.
I hate not feeling
even my heart.