• I glare at you as you smile at me.
    it does not kill me,
    like it does you.
    I see the lies you hide inside,
    the scars youve caused.
    The scare little girl you were when you mom was lying on the ground with blood coming from her wrist.
    The girl who wanted to be loved,
    letting guys lay in your bed,
    to get rid of the pain.
    The jealiousy you have foe me,
    ha! I laugh at you because you had a better life than i did.
    You wanted to be the good girl but ended up a bad girl,
    who people call hore.