Saturday, December 12, 2009

Sometimes,

This is all you have left.
Everything hurts.
Let's escape this messed up word called life.
If you have anything to say, why not say it to my face. I hate being insulted over publicity. Don't tell me not to cry, it's called sensitivity. I don't cry for attention. People cry because they're sad, or hurt. I'm sure I don't know myself, and we all make mistakes. Stupid ones too, perhaps. I'm tired of apologizing over nothing. I don't know how this started, and I don't think I want to know why. It hurts to know, when you think you have a real friend, and then that friend doesn't do anything to help.

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