The raised skin of the scars on her wrist catches your eye. You say that you’re sad for her. But how can you be? All you do is make fun of her. You have your entire life. Followed her with insults and hurt. Suddenly you’re sorry? After making her feel like a freak all of her life? After telling her to **** herself? Now that she is taking your advice you’re sorry? How can you be sorry of your own work? Admire you’re work, dear friend. Admire your sick work.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
The raised skin of the scars on her wrist catches your eye. You say that you’re sad for her. But how can you be? All you do is make fun of her. You have your entire life. Followed her with insults and hurt. Suddenly you’re sorry? After making her feel like a freak all of her life? After telling her to **** herself? Now that she is taking your advice you’re sorry? How can you be sorry of your own work? Admire you’re work, dear friend. Admire your sick work.
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