*I'm sick and ******* tired of being treated like glass about to break.
I want you to hit me.*
I can't.
Hit me.
I can't hit you.
Yes you can. Hit me.
I can't hit a girl.
Oh just grow a pair and do it!
His hand made shattering contact with my cheekbone.
And he started to cry
I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry
He was kissing my face and hands over and over
so sorry so sorry so sorry
I kissed him hard and the world refused to slow on its axis no matter how much we wanted it to.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 8:54 AM UTC
*I'm sick and ******* tired of being treated like glass about to break.
I want you to hit me.*
I can't.
Hit me.
I can't hit you.
Yes you can. Hit me.
I can't hit a girl.
Oh just grow a pair and do it!
His hand made shattering contact with my cheekbone.
And he started to cry
I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry
He was kissing my face and hands over and over
so sorry so sorry so sorry
I kissed him hard and the world refused to slow on its axis no matter how much we wanted it to.
this is autobiographical
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