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Dear The Boy Who Is Wasting My Time and Emotion,

I can do so much better than you.

no you can't

You are hurting me, every time you speak to me, you break me a little more.

Get over it Princess. You deserve it. God, you're pathetic.

Stop texting me when you have a girlfriend

but you want him to, secretly

I am going to find someone someday who is so much better than you.
Someone who will treat me right instead of treating me like I'm his
Plan B. I'm going to find someone who doesn't drink and get high to
work out his problems when he can't even legally drive yet. That's not
called "being complicated and deep" as you seem to think, it's
called "being an alcoholic and a druggie". I'm going to find someone
who reads, who likes the same books I do and won't make fun of the
series I love that saved me from myself when I wanted to **** myself.
I'm going to find someone with a good heart, who CARES about me,
who will not be Broken but will be okay with me being Broken. Who
will fix me. Not someone who just wants an ego boost like you do.

you will never find anyone like that. You will never do better than
him.


You really aren't who you used to be

So? You should take what you can get, stupid girl. No boy has ever
liked you, and no boy ever will. No boy has even called you pretty
besides him.


You're bad for me.

You are not worth anything better

You say you are sorry and regret hurting me, but I don't believe you

believe him

I want to believe you. So badly

so then just believe him!

but I can't

you stupid ugly worthless *****...

And even if I did believe you, you don’t even like me. You haven’t
even spoken to me for a month. A MONTH you *******!

You’re not worth noticing or speaking to. Why would he care? Just
take it. Take how he treats you and deal with it. It’s what you deserve.
Get used to it, *****.


Even if we talked for a while, for a long while and you managed to
deceive me enough into getting close with you again, then if you asked
me out and we went back down the path we were on before you
dropped me so easily, I could never trust you. You text me flirty texts
while you’re WITH HER! You HAVE a girlfriend and NO girl deserves
to be treated like that. No girl deserves to have an unfaithful boy who
is in her life, but is not committed to her when he claims he is.

You deserve that.

Not even me.

Yes you do.

So I don’t deserve to be treated the way you treat me. I get a mini heart
attack every time you text me and I’d like you out of my life.

Don’t do that. You’ll regret it. You are so, so alone you stupid *****.
What are you thinking?


I can do better than you. I can find someone who likes me. Someone
who’s idea of a good time doesn’t involve ecstasy. Someone who
doesn’t need to be drunk to say something nice to me.

Oh please. You will never ever find anyone.

Please just stop now. I have bigger problems than a boy like you.

Your problems could be solved with a  boy like him though!

I told you that you didn’t hurt me. I am lying. I’m not going to let you
keep hurting me however.

But the pain is so addictive. Let him keep hurting you. It makes you
feel like maybe you’re worth something, if you have his approval. If he
tells you you’re pretty, it makes you wonder for a second if the mirror
is wrong. You will never be convinced, but it makes you wonder, for
just a split second. It hurts, but it’s a lovely split second. Listen to me!


I’m NOT YOUR F!CKING CONSILATION PRIZE okay?

Yeah. You’re right about that, at least. What kind of ******
consolation prize would you be? Who would want you? You’re not a consolation prize to him, you’re just a another girl for when he’s bored. That’s all you deserve to be. Take it, worthless. You’re ugly. Take what you can get.


Usually, this is where I’d say: I’m sorry. Goodbye. But I am not sorry
and I’ve apologized to you far too many times so far and I shouldn’t
have. I had nothing to be sorry about.

You always have something to be sorry about. Apologize that he has
to look at you and your ugly face. That you exist. That you are wasting
space on his phone with your picture and your contact and your texts.
Apologize for being so difficult and annoying and desperate and
pathetic and self-centered and self-deprecating and say you’re sorry
that you ever offended him by being so pompous as to believe for even
just half a second (or half a summer, as it were) that you could be
worthy of his interest. Because you are worth nothing. You are not
enough. You are inferior. You are a failure. A waste.


So goodbye.

-Ember.

You’ll regret it later. You will never find a boy as good as him. Ever.
You will never even find another guy. You don’t deserve him, let alone
anyone else. It was a fluke that he ever ended up with the misfortune
of knowing you. You will never do better than him.


Yes I will.

No you won’t, you stupid ugly worthless *****.

Yes. I will.
My dark side is in the bolded letters.

Well, there's your waste of time for the day: Me.

Sorry for being so annoyingly self-deprecating. I know, it's very pathetic. I just am so sick of this guy who keeps suddenly texting me out of the blue and throwing all my emotions way off.
Don't walk on my side of the street,
we do not want to see your feet
pounding down on this sidewalk.
We feel no need to  mix or talk.

Here are the rules that we send,
if you're not like us you're no friend.
So take this threat and do not stray
or with your life you'll surely pay.

We want our race line to stay pure,
we're happier when you are fewer.
So die you ******* do us a favour
for we don't like your cultures flavour.

These thoughts have always been in mind,
our message passed from kind to kind.
Children taught how they should hate
and never enter in debate.

We're happy just the way we are,
with bullets from a drive bye car.
Machine guns we can lock and load
Dead bodies lying in the road.

Why would we ever want alteration
and mix with lesser denomination.
We keep the streets clean as we sieve
sooner than integrate we would grieve.

It makes good sense that's what we learn
and then pass on when it's our turn.
Our children we do educate
and their forbears they emulate.

And on and on and on and on
and through this course so many gone.
They die because they cross a road,
or move out from their postal code.

We **** because he looks at her,
they die 'cause they decide to care.
Rather to **** them than to alter
we choose instead to maim and slaughter.

This is it, it's what you do
to those who do not look like you.
We must step forward and be brave,
and if they mix they choose the grave.

We are there to teach and show
for without this no-one would know.
Cultures they would amalgamate
then we would have no cause to hate.
Hate is learnt, it is not a natural course.
19th January 2015
When we see another child shot dead.
Where are their rights?
Is that in the constitution?
14th Jan 2015.
She was hunted by a witch,
Who was to **** her
By the name of white.
She sent the woodsman
To put an end to her young life.

Caught up in the woods,
She begged for her life,
On her knees, she did the deed.
Wood was in her mouth,
  Down the back of the throat licking
Lips after the deed.

Be gone said the woodsman,
She had secured her freedom.
She did run, into the woods
she found a home,
She smashed a window to escape
the cold.

She undressed and lay on the bed.
Asleep she did fall, then awoken,
She was startled as seven little men
Stood around the bed.
Do you like what you see?
If you let me hide here,
I will thank you in ways that a princess is taught,
I can be naughty as well as nice.

They talked and said all right,
She pleasured most of them through out the night.
Happy was used and abused,
But he left the room smiling from left to right.
One did leave the room with a grumpy face,
He liked his kin and sleeping with a woman
Had never felt right.

So through the night,
She showed them things
That only princes usually get to see,
And for a while they lived all happily.

Her name was white,
But she was anything but that.
She had the stamina
To keep these little men all happy,
Content they could live with that.

But time went on,
The queen had found by rumour,
Where she not so pure was at.
A plan was made to
End her life.

A candy apple sold at the door,
She said her thanks an shut the door.
She liked hard things in her mouth,
Licked with her tongue,
Took a bite and passed out.

She was found
When the little men came home.
In tears they where,
As they would once again
Have to use the wooden doll.
Splinters were never fun to pull out,
Used by many it was cleaned a lot out.

She was put in a casket made of glass,
Still a beauty to behold.
As word spread,
Princes from across did try to find.
But only one had found white,
A kiss on the lips
Would break a curse out right.

His lips pressed hard,
and a confused look,
as the kiss was salty on his lips.
Happy smiled as he didn't have a care,
A mouth is a mouth warm it was
When he pushed it in and out.
So he used it to satisfy his urges,
No one would know
As he did it in the dark of night.

She awoke startled,
So much time had past.
I am your prince,
I heard tale of a gargling princess
named as white.

They travelled the land
To avenge her near death,
By the queen of night.
Swords drawn,
The seven little men by her side,
They confronted the queen.

She said do you know what she did?
This woman called white.
She slept with my son,
My husband and me.
Turning each against the other,
Until I was the only one left out of three.

Her name is white,
But she is any thing but that.
She will turn one against the other.
She must die for her crimes against me.
With that the prince looked on,
As she said all is true.

But queen you liked what I did
Before you found out,
That I played your family.
You all got what was deserved
I have no regrets with that.

Then with sword in hand
She killed the queen
With a sword through the heart.
She turned her sights
On the eight men.
The prince fought well
But she was too good.
His head left his shoulders
Ending his life.

The seven were no match for her.
Drenched in red,
But named white,
As all were slain.
She smiled sitting at her rightful place,
The queen of white
That went on to conquer many lands
 Dressed in red but named white.
I’m done
With the *******
I’m done with the lies
I’m done with the tears flowing out of my eyes
I want to be happy
That is my only goal
To be happy
Before I lose my soul
I’m done with worrying about being alone
I need to embrace it
Pick up the phone
People do love me
Or so they say
It’s enough to keep me going
For another day
I always feel like there is someone choking me, tying impossible amounts of knots into the noose they have strung around my neck and used as a leash.
Some once called him a Grand Old Man,
Others called him a slime,
You couldn’t get a consensus that
Was even, all the time,
For some kow-towed to his money, while
Others fell by his sword,
His life was overall sunny, while
His victims quailed at his word.

He lorded it over his children,
He ruled their kids with ease,
A sullen look from beneath his brow
Would bring them to their knees,
His will was forever changing
As solicitors came and went,
One day he’d offer a mansion,
And another day, a tent.

When he finally died he was stony broke
And they wondered where it went,
He’d always been abstemious
But the money had been spent.
He left all their lives in ruins with
Their expectations gone,
A couple of ramshackle houses were
The only things they won.

There wasn’t the money to bury him
So they left him where he sat,
Up at the head of the table in
His black, beribboned hat,
He glared at them as he’d glared in life
One hand on the table-top,
Where he used to tap with his finger
As if it would never stop.

Tap-tap-tap on the table-top,
Tap-tap-tap it went,
His eyes bored into the back of your head
As if to say - Repent!
And people scurried, this way and that
To divine what the tartar meant,
The grim old man in his black top hat
Who ruled to their detriment.

They left him sat and they locked the door
Didn’t go back for a year,
Til the eldest, saying ‘let’s know for sure,’
Returned with a tinge of fear.
‘He might have stocks in his waistband there
Or shares hid under his shirt,
Or cash stuffed in his beribboned hat -
He treated us all like dirt!’

He ventured into the dining room
Where the grim old man still sat,
His eyes a-glare in the year long gloom
From under the brim of his hat.
But as the eldest approached him there
The finger began to tap,
A steady rap with a note of doom
That would curdle blood to sap.

So Toby dived to the tinder box
And he leapt up with the axe,
His face as pale as a ghostly tale
But determined to attack.
He raised the axe and he let it fall
Severed the finger there,
It skittered across the table top
As the old man fell from his chair.

The stocks were stuffed in the old man’s hat
The shares were stuffed in his sleeve,
And so much cash in his waistband that
They said, you wouldn’t believe.
But still he’s locked in that grey old house
For they found it wouldn’t stop,
That severed finger that skittered there
Still taps on the table-top!

David Lewis Paget
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