I hate her.*
I know I shouldn't since it's not her fault.
But I just do.

She fights her inner demons.
I just annoy her, her prickly voice being too much.
I just can't help it.

She threatens to **** herself.
And all I do is edge her on, one minute by the next.
It's hard not too.

She sneaks out to have ***,
I scoff and tell her to, "Get a ******* education."
And she breaks the tiniest bit more.

She swallowed pills to end her life,
it didn't work, because we knew what was happening.
And then we all snapped.

She blames it on her condition,
throwing fits and telling us she'll **** us in our sleep.
And I believe her.

She's mental, a psychopath, a verbal abuser,
who knows what'll happen the next time someone fights with her.
No one, not even Him.

She believes she's lower than the dogs,
and I tell her she's lower than the ground.
Because I don't understand. .

She calls me a "spoiled princess" and blames me.
I get where she's coming from after all I've done.
And trust me, I'd blame me too.