I love him, but he doesn't love me. Every breath he takes makes me feel like dying.
Every word he makes makes me feeling like crying.
I want to get closer, but every time I try,
He thinks of another pick up line to impress the one he truly loves.
Whenever we go on a walk in the park, he shows no affection.
He is merely just a friend who thinks of me as a nobody.
When we walk he hurries back, just so he can grab his loved one, and spend no more time with me.
When he asks why I'm scarred with blood, I tell him it was a small accident, I tell him its nothing. I turn around and walk away. I whisper, it's just you.
Every night I cry on my bed, thinking of what I've done for him, and what I got in return.
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
My hair is in tangled and so is my brain.
Why do I like him? Why him? The one who does everything to be popular and the one that's hitting on everyone except for me.
Even when he is nice, he tends to thank me with a hand shake, or a stupid pat on the back.
When thanking the other girls, he hugs them like he's squeezing them like the softest pillow.
Where the hell did I go wrong, what the hell is going on? Why am I treated like dirt? No, why am I treated like something lower than dirt.
What is it? My color, my size?
Is it because it is unexpected of me? Everyone is equal, we all have limits too.
How the hell would you know what's expected of someone if you never attempted to try?
If I'm not beautiful, then say so. I'll do something about it. Ughhh.
No, that's not good enough.
If I have to change in order to change somebody's thought of me, then forget it.
I thought that many times… So why do I still love him?
I'm not letting go of him, although he has already let go of me.
He's linked with the one he loves, he is holding her hand.
She leans on his shoulders, she touches his face.
He touches her ass, oh great, what a pleasant place.
I look at his face, completely blind.
He notices something else, and it's not me once again.
Somebody help me get his face out of my head!
Now back in bed, completely calm,
I close my eyes and fall asleep.
He's there again; in my dreams.
I'm in his arms, warm and happy. While I sleep I can almost feel him touching me.
I finally wake up, and he isn't there,
I begin to cry again, I remembered it was just a dream.
Again my head reeks with angst.
I bang my head on walls and scream GET OUT.
There, inside my head, he laughs at me.
My view is red, I feel too much pain. I grab a knife and slit my wrist.
I count, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20.
Why won't I die!
Nothing is worst then his face, so let go!
Let go…
Everything good that he's done for me is a fake.
Nothing of equal value.
I gave him my love, he gave me a laugh. Slitting wrists isn't fun.
Especially since I'm one out of millions that are never expected to cut my wrist.
Now time to pick a new location, maybe my neck.
I reach for my
knife.
Then I remember. He is a fucking piece of rotten shit.
Why should I kill myself?
What difference will it make to him?
He won't care and I'll be dead.
What happen to my dream?
No not that dream, my other dream.
The one where I achieve my goals, live life, be free and see the world.
Yeah. That one.
I won't die. The largest hole of hell is for traitors and people like me.
He'll never pull me that low. The lowest is below the dirt, not through hell.
Till next time.
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Well… Not as evil as I could put it, but I was bored and multitasking. Next time it will be more deep.
