You have time to change your profile picture, but not to read my messages... You find time to be with them and do this and that, but where am I at in the picture? Could you even point me out? You've spoken love to me as if it were something that could be, something that could eventually... but when? When will I become a priority? And why is it that the thought of you more and more often just makes me want to cry? I'm tired of hiding, tired of this mirage, it's been a facade all along hasn't it?! Cause this is how you get attention. This is how, you've always gotten along, to obtain what you wanted. Yet, If I'm to confront you over the situation, and how you make me feel, then I'm the one in the wrong. *******, I'm so done. If anyone deserves to bring this energy out of me, they could at least bear witness to the spectacle... lest the show be all for naught and I'm left rotting inside, like the fermented fruit on the ground. There's nothing worse than being ignored. To be gored by your words would be preferable to the silent cold I've been enduring since you decided I wasn't ******* worth it. Well I know my worth God ******* ******, and I won't sell for less than the time it takes to change your god forsaken profile picture.