“How does it feel?”

They ask me.
“When the entire world hates you?”
They continue.

“How do you think?”
I wonder.
“When you love it?”
I question.

“No idea at all”
Is the response.
“Weird form of love”
Their ego says.

“All forms of love are weird.”
I fill in.
“Retards think there is one unweird.”
I conclude.

Touched a nerve.
Anger, violence.
Hits and punches.
Pain and suffering.

“Weird form of love.”
I counter.
“Hurts just as much.”
I formulate.

“How does it feel?”
I wonder.
“To hate yourself?”
Curiously.

“To my knowledge..”
I initiate.
“That is the weirdest.”
I strike.

“So the world can hate me.”
I charge.
“But I can love.”
I champion.