Every night I echo what you said to me.
"Ugly."
"Fat."
"Stupid."
"Nobody."
"I hate you."
"You have no friends."
"Go away."
"Bitch."
"Know it all."
"Outcast."
"Weird."
"Anorexic."
"Different."
"Emo."
You don't think I care, because I don't show it. But for every time you made me cry at night, I have a cut on my wrist my arm or thigh. You don't see them, but they're there. Do you still think I don't care?
