the contacts in my list
having their birthdays attached
reminds me of terrible times
i
hate you.
i
never want to see you.
i
want to say "hope you have a depressing birthday"
i
want to tell you everything you did wrong
but im tired
and for now
ill hate you with eyes
far away and distant now
but still fresh with anger.
if you still read these
i will once again say it
you don't deserve to be here in this school
let alone in this life
don't try and fix things
don't try and change
your head is fucked up
and your mental is worse than mine as of current
your ashes should be spread upon a slice of toast
and eaten with disregard
because that's all you are
food, and better yet, food for the worms
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
