I know this, 

as I have known you longer than you have known yourself. 

Time will make you bitter, it will heal no wound within you. 

You will forever feel the crack in your heart, forever taste the mold on your tongue. 

For you were grown from the rotten seed of your mother. 

And you, my love, are the despair and anguish she could not release through her treacherous mouth. 

Expelled from the womb of a woman who despises the embodiment of her own weakness: you.