Liberation-Bound.

I had an emo week, and well, this is basically my final thoughts on it. 

Release.

Who do you think you are? You come into my life, and thrash it all, smash it to pieces, and then shrug it off like its nothing. Just hearing your name is enough to make my stomach churn. My intestines quiver at anything that looks remotely like you; why? Because you took everything I had and you defecated all over it. You vomited your feelings all over my life because you were upset. 

You say you’re sorry, yet you make the same mistake again. You announce you’re bowel movement on society- ignorantly if I might add- all because you are angry. Well what do you have to be angry about, did you get the short end of the shit stick? You had a six letter word said to you. Six letters, one two three four five motherfucking six, and I’m the bad guy. Six derogatory letters, and I’m Satan. 

You are the harbinger of sorrow and yet I’m the bad guy. Every time I see you, I feel as if my life is as shallow as a fucking kiddy pool. You hurt me in a way that can never be fixed, in a way that won’t repair itself for a long time. So don’t make it any harder, or I’ll make it easier.