Hi, hello? Is that you?
Yeah, I've been looking for you—
A ten year-old girl who's got a crush
On the most beautiful boy in class,
But he's got a new girlfriend now
And you cry with your friends on
The middle of school field
Wishing it could've been you one day.

Hey, hello! Yeah it's me.
I've been looking for you too—
A nineteen-year-old woman who now
Lives by her own, being free and all,
Wbo can buy clothes and all you want
By yourself without having your mother
To worry about.

Oh, no, no. Maybe that's me,
Or maybe it's all just
In your imagination, dear.
I want to send a message—
Live and love and cry all you want,
You can repeat it again and again.
Promise me?

Why? I don't want to cry—
I don't want to feel heartbroken
By another stupid boys or another
Stupid school assignments again—

Oh, my dear.
It is much and much better,
Than having your heart cold as stone—
Unable to feel anything,
Even love.

i torment myself for my inability to love,
my inability to sense the light after the storm.
i spend my days wondering when,
when will i give myself to another
when will the world be ready?

wake up in the morning
i just wanna die
slice my hands off
burry myself alive
i don’t ******* need this
drama in my life
my mind dont belong to me
the devil pulls his strings
i just wanna scream
but my lungs fail me
my smile is a crooked art
but i’m a ******* demon
my eyes are red
is it the trees
is it a scheme
or is she just ******* dead
is that a church
i burn it down
on sunday morning
all brainwashed drones
will be destroyed
while they’re screeching
and there aint no heaven bruh
you gonna see
when i eliminate you hippocrites
like it’s parkland

go ask ------ if i care.
ask her if she'll let you
slip inside while you're at it;
tell her that you love her
two weeks in.

you're too rough and
the polaroids you took
left me with black
tiger stripe bruises on
my sarasota gold tinted thighs.

everyone i've talked to,
everyone who knows you,
warned me that you were a creep.
but how could a darling angel
turn out to be such a freak?

you're suffocating like his
smoldering cigarette smoke
and you choke me out with
your big macho paw just
the same way he did last december.

i am not a possession;
i belong to no one and
i surely don't belong to
a tall, lanky creep like you.
do you hear me?

i'm a young teenage girl with
ribbons in my hair and bright
white ruffled socks pressed
into the carpet; have you
forgotten that little fact?

you were all to eager to pummel
my juvenile cherry pie raw,
but you were only ever focused
on your singular, deviant,
carnally charged pleasure.

A group burial ground
Is much like *******:
A pile of bodies stripped of dignity
But not being in a state to care.