Why do you think it’s ok to say things like that. I am that worthless? Am I that DISGUSTING that it’s ok for you in your mind to say things like “I’m going to hit you” meaning it seriously if I don’t SHUT UP about something. If I don’t remain Voiceless and say whatever it is you want to hear. Is it not ok for something to slip out, something not about you or mean or rude, but a desperate plea from a worried girl? Something so not ok that it’s alright to threaten me and say that you’ll never care where or how I get cigarettes again if I don’t shut up right now. Shut up… after two or three sentences?
I just wrote you a beautiful love letter too. I told you about it…you didn’t ask to read it. Is that another thing you don’t care about like how you obviously care about me.
Remember how you were in the car? When we were on heroin? Remember how abusive you were then? Remember how you BIT ME in a fight for a few bags? Remember how you would make me feel like shit everyday, make me feel less than a human being? You’ll NEVER have to feel that way because you, oh you, are a WHITE MAN and I am NOT a MONSTER.
I fucking hate everything? I wonder why.
If ou think it’s ok to threaten me. It’s not. If you think it’s working? It probably is because right now I am terrified. You’re frustrated? I’m SCARED. Fuck you. You think I was crying because I didn’t get my way. Are you insane? Maybe it’s because you made me feel worthless like some piece of shit you can just kick and not worry about. I worry about you. I love you and yes, I still do yes.
I don’t want it to be this way. I said something stupid. I admit that, but really?
Not cool dude.
 just got told to go to hell, to fuckng kill myself and that I’m worth less than his cell phone. I screamed and screamed. I don’t get it… maybe I will kill myself or cut at least… I need to pour out this sadness and rage through some good ole bloodletting.Thanks for nothing. Also this is all because I asked him to ask his dad for five dollars. All I want is for him to put this in perspective.
Oh and I interrupted his “writing” too much. Get a life. Good writers can deal with families and LIFE in general. That’s fucking HOW people write.
So I left the car and walked to a graveyard. He followed. “Is this where you think I belong? I belong here don’t I?”
“You shouldn’t take my words so seriously. You know I didn’t mean that. Why are you taking it to the end that degree?”
“Hm isn’t that exactly what you did to me?”
Silence, stillness, thoughts
And all I wanted to say was I love you, I forgive you, I understand, I don’t know.