YOU'RE AN ABUSIVE WRITER.

I can see as well as you
All colors are visible
The sea is just as blue
All except you, you're invisible

You don't have colors,
You're monotone.
You're unable to have lovers,
You'll always be alone.

Phosphor is your name,
and you think everything is plain.
You're always to blame,
and your existence is just a shame.

"Nice poem. Now go away," Phosphor told the writer, twirling a pencil between her right hand's fingers. Her expression held no emotion. "I TOLD YOU STOP WRITING ABOUT ME. STOP."

You didn't tell me to stop, you told me to go away. Also, I'm technically typing, not writing.

"Oh, that's it!" Phosphor rose and took the writer's phone, about to delete the rest of the descri-