A borrowed thought....

I am the one who is long in the tooth. I am the cold dregs at the bottom of a cup. I am the merchandise no one wants. I am the untouched tin on the back shelf.

I don't bleed; instead I store within me the spores of a million hates.

I carry on my back every fear, every dark whisper, and every tormented thought that can cross the human mind....My name when spelt aloud reads defeat.

This is how most of us think when inflicted by the deadly self persecution disease...Dense and unfathomable ain't it?...Sharing will those who haven't read the book...Borrowed from Ladies Coupe by Anita Nair.