I curse the day I was born. What purpose have I? I thought I had one but it's been torn. Jazzmin your voice is beautiful, one day you'll be famous. But daddy dearest shakes his head and says you far from near it. I grew up a little more and became sad. I remember writing poems and I used to cry. Then one day I got the courage to post my pain on the web. Like Pictures of me being an ignoramus. People saw my words and my blood shed, words got back to my family and now I can't rest in bed. My friends and teachers said my writing was rad, but my older brother said it was best to leave that dream in the cobwebs. As time goes on I became much much thinner. My monsters took over and introduced me to Ana. A lovely friend indeed except for the fact that she is constantly trying to starve me. It's ok it's for the best she says. One day you'll be good enough to be His. From 140 down to 100 from 2 months of skipping breakfast lunch and dinner. No one seemed to notice at home, but my friends were upset. Then one day I found a chill out drug my the name of marijuana. Only once did I do it. And once was enough to notice that my life has gotten really rough. I went back online and my bother made me quit. But paranoia is a bitch. He called me twice and talked for an hour. Everyone loves and cares jazzmin come and tell us don't cower. I'm too ashamed to tell them why that past even exist. Every time that phone rings I think it's him. That's the time I really want to cut my wrist. What did I do now? When will he stop looking through my phone and iPod anyhow? Is he watching me in this moment? What if he finds my secrets? If I wall then I have failed them all. But you see even God makes mistakes. And I can't even take these paranoid headaches. I'm stuck in side with no escapes. I have no true purpose on this earth I have no real future. I was the unneed fall out suture. Life has been ever so unkind. So God please take me this time.
