Last month, I was grounded because I wouldn't clean my room. So I wrote "You whores" in my own blood. . . now I'm in therapy. I mean, it was just a joke, what's wrong with my parents?
Anyways, I'm happy to be here, I have some more sob stories to tell you. You know, about how my life sucks and my nuts are shrinking from being tucked back because I wear girl pants everywhere.
Is Andrea still around? I cut myself ten times last night thinking about you Drea!
I wrote this poem too:
Love is a knife,
the knife had blood,
I cry
I cry
It hurts
I love you.
Isn't that deep?
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Edited by Emoriah, 16 November 2006 - 08:08 PM.