RDBlck
being a girl is hard.
"do you love me?" he said.
"sure," i said.
i'm too tired to go on.
but it never shows.
at least we'll be leaving in the fairest of the seasons.
living is something i neither understand nor enjoy.
roof over my head.
doesn't keep the rain off.
the higher up i go, the more faint i become.
wading into blackness. i am happy. leave me be.
my mother, my father and the hatred i feel for them both:
is it pure or tainted?