I DON'T GET IT. WHY DO YOU GET TO BE HAPPY AND I DON'T WHEN I'M THE ONE WHO SUFFERED? I HAD TO DEAL WITH THE BULLSHIT YOU PUT ME THROUGH, AND I STILL DO. I CAN'T LET ANYONE IN AGAIN BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU DID TO ME, BUT YOU SEEM TO BE DOING JUST FUCKING FINE. HOW IS THAT FAIR? HERE'S MY ANSWER: IT'S NOT. JUST LIKE EVERYTHING YOU DID TO ME. AND I HAVE TO PICK UP THE PIECES THAT YOU JUST LEFT. I'M SICK AND FUCKING TIRED OF HAVING TO DEAL WITH EVERYONE ELSE'S SHIT, ESPECIALLY YOURS. I JUST WISH I COULD BE HAPPY AGAIN.
n.s.
YOU ARE READING
well, that didn't work: an autobiography
Poetryeverything i've never had the courage to say.
