rip me apart.
tell me now that i am worth your ridicule.
ostracize me please.
that is exactly what i need.
tell me how i am not worth anything.
my family doesn't even love me,
and that's alright by me.
when i wake up,
i'll remember you yelling in my face
i'm worth less, oh am i?
yep.
i know.
******* ****  ahhhhHHHHHHHHHH
ALRIGHTY
i'm feeling good now.
i'm just gonna go upstairs now and draw a picture of
a teenage, african-american girl with wild, unmanageable curly hair shedding every ounce of water in her body
out on this here paper.
i may play some metal
or maybe old school rap.
it's all right.
everything is perfect, family.
don't worry about me please don't.
i'm okay really.
i don't think about death every second of every day:
monday tuesday wednesday thursday friday saturday and sunday-
nope.
not once have i layed on my grungy carpet and tried to scratch the flesh off of my fat arms and
bled.
i would never even think to do **** a horrendous thing.
i love me so that's enough, right?
but when the love that i have for myself
starts competing with the love that my family is supposed to have for me
then maybe things may become difficult.
it might start to become difficult for me to love myself the way i should be loved.
im ******* fantastic.
but who cares if I see that?
if no one else sees it then might as well be a *******, right?
if my parents interrogate me every ******* time i leave the house
like they have caught me shooting ****** in my room,
what will stop me from actually shooting up morning, afternoon, and before bed?