I don't want to do this anymore. Life is to hard. No one knows no one knows the pain. The pain of what she did. That you can't talk about your true feelings. No one knows what it is for your body to tense at the thought, site, and name of her. Panic attacks, fear, trust issues, church trauma, and not feeling safe. You left scars on my heart bruises on my damn neck. Not even being sorry. Making me stay outside for hours. But you don't have to remember how it was hard for me to breathe. Why the hell did I get hurt for your shit? Now im scarred and you dont even know it happened. What did I do? When I see you I just remember your hands around my neck. You probably don't. Remember two years ago? I do. I don't know why it was me though. Why hurt me? You said you loved me. How was that love? And you wonder why im distant. I haven't even told mom yet. You scared me what the fuck did I do?
This is my story this happened to me this is what happened in my own life.
YOU ARE READING
dear diary,
Non-Fictionthis is my diary the book is what I write my shit in you get what I wrote and don't say shit about it that will hurt me
