They are the only ones who are able to hurt me. I am the only one who stands in their way. Seven broken hearts with broken love and rough edges like sandpaper. Seven who are not welcomed but still come. Seven lame excuses to kill. From the outside, we can all hear them, but some just ignore and disregard the pain.

Their strength is apparent. They enrage the blood pumping through our veins. They forgive and then they grow into a furious roar and grab their next victim with their dirty hands and suck the happiness out of them in brutal waves and never stop their fury. This is how they take.

Making people forget the purpose of life, they drain love like a tank full of water with a gaping hole, each with their never ending hate. Take, take, take they whisper into my ear. They loath.

When I am too sad and too bitter to keep going, when I am a tiny person going against an enormous wall of fury, I then look at them straight in the eye. When there is nothing left to turn to. Seven who broke despite love. Seven who rupture and do not stop rupturing. Seven whose only reason is to take and take some more.