I hate you. I FUCKING HATE YOU. For everything. For everything I let you, you bastard, do to me.
I thought you were different.
You weren't the same.
And who the hell do I have to blame?
Me. Of course it's me.
I was an idiot, a dumbfounded fool.
I would explain why, why you piss me off. Why I wish you were dead. Why you could rot in hell for all I care. Why you could talk to my ass,but even that doesn't give a shit anymore. But if you don't know, if you don't remember. Then you can go fuck yourself.
It was wrong of me too ever care.
YOU ARE READING
Bipolar Much?
PoesíaPoems I have written. Some about love, others about hate. In no specific order. So you'll probably assume I'm bipolar or something because of how fast my feelings change.
