You said I changed.
Changed.
Hah., Yes I did change.
Just because of you.
I don't use to getting hurt physically anymore.
Reading the paper,
I felt desperate.
For not to be that perfect to be your friend.
Guess you are waiting for me to apologize.
I have been thinking a lot about this.
In a serious way.
You don't like the way I talk.
You don't like the way I care about other friend I have.
You don't like the way I feel towards the society.
You don't care about what I feel or why I'm being a bitch.
You don't care about what are my emotions.
You don't care about what things I have been through.
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Realizing you don't like the real me. And, I can't always apologize to bullshit and let it go.
Do you ever think that. I would care about this seriously. Being around you, made me feel like you think I'm a nuisance, fool. The way you glare at me everyday, desperately for an apologize or me asking why you being like this to me. It's time for me to stand up. I'm a human-being too. I'm not a slave or anyone's slave. Getting bullied by hurting inside. And letting it go easily like nothing happened. It did happen. It's still there. Waiting for me to do with it.
You know, I know.
I don't deserve to be your close friend.
I hate that.
I always know this day will come.
Time is waiting,
for me to choose the path.
I can't always be around you with myself like this and you hating it.
It's my body, feelings, life.
I'm the one who take control of it.
I can't a l w a y s change myself towards the things you hate about me to be that perfect friend of you.
You think I will apologize because I was wrong,
Like the dumb fucking bitch I used to be.
You think this is black-mailing,
something about my feelings that I never told you before or forever.
I hate dragging people into the bullshit with me in it.
I don't want other innocent people getting to things that they don't care about and getting hurt or danger.
I don't want to see people looking at me and asking why I'm okay with you hurting me.
I don't want to become sucidal.
I don't want more depression.
Or awful memories will be painted in the future.
I don't want part of my youth to be colored with the blues.
So please,
Stop this nonsense
and
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Move On.
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It's my answer.
Forget the memories
We had.
Don't treat me as your friend.
I'm just another piece of sand in a middle wide dessert.
