I remember the first time I killed a girl. She loved me. I loved her.
I would hand her Xanax and cigarettes. One time she handed me her heart on a silver platter and seductively smirked whilst saying, "Dig in."
She then, unfortunately, was burdened with my child. We decided to purge my family tree. We did so faster than a gallon of Roundup kills a single dandelion. I had no desire to let my family tree grow, it is a horrid thing.
Soon after she was filled with grief. So then I killed her. I used my divine nonexistent influence to perform a task that she was oh so familiar with. I teleported from Albany to Long Island in a matter of seconds and hand fed her all her medications, then her mother heart medications along with all my own stock pile of pills I used for recreation. Her heart rate began to slow. She died. I laughed.
I now have two tear drops tattooed on my face.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 8:50 PM UTC
I remember the first time I killed a girl. She loved me. I loved her.
I would hand her Xanax and cigarettes. One time she handed me her heart on a silver platter and seductively smirked whilst saying, "Dig in."
She then, unfortunately, was burdened with my child. We decided to purge my family tree. We did so faster than a gallon of Roundup kills a single dandelion. I had no desire to let my family tree grow, it is a horrid thing.
Soon after she was filled with grief. So then I killed her. I used my divine nonexistent influence to perform a task that she was oh so familiar with. I teleported from Albany to Long Island in a matter of seconds and hand fed her all her medications, then her mother heart medications along with all my own stock pile of pills I used for recreation. Her heart rate began to slow. She died. I laughed.
I now have two tear drops tattooed on my face.
This is fiction.
It was a journal entry that deals with my ex-girlfriend's abortion and suicide attempts.
