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Im dieing inside.
They say there is no reason for me to be sad and write the things that I do, but what he doesnt understand is that I hate you. Through much pain I tred, wishing that you,me, or her was dead. Why do you pretend you love something so dear, when you want it to end, for it is me that you frear. How could you expect anything less, when the rise and fall slow of my chest. Look in my eyes, I have seen death, and watched the taken of a last breath. The death was my heart, what makes a girl what she is. Nothing but hatred flows through my viens, now i am the walking dead, a zombie'ess.
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