. . .

Keys.

The

keys

clack

againt

the

keyboard

as

I

type

letters

into

words.

I

feel

like

a

toy,

honestly.

When

I

write,

its

far

too

late

cause

now

I'm

convicted.

Timothy

says

he

loves

me-

-and

he

does...

right?

Its

stupid

how

when

with

men,

I

make

the

same

mistake

over

and

over

again...

I

love

the

quote:

"Never let anyone else decide who you are."

Cause

all

my

life,

thats

all

I've

ever

been

doing.

My friends:

A FAKE.

My parents:

PERFECT.

Timothy:

His GIRLFRIEND.

Sure, I love Timothy and all...

but we fight.

A lot.

I wish we'd stop.

I want him to love me-

-I want to feel real love.

I dont wanna feel as if I were a

TOY.

Cause I can assure you, I am much more than that.

For example, I am numb.

Weak.

Stupid.

Suicidal.

Sure, I act nice.

Sure I look fine.

Sure I'm kind.

In reality, I am:

-          
-          
-          

nothing.