Hey Dirtbag…

Already can’t catch my breathe…..
Here’s to no uncontrollable sobbing in the classroom….

He was my self-injury… my tool. I’m alone now.  I won’t go back to the razors… they hurt.  Hurt in a different way. No I just can’t do that. I could hide Jason better.  Maybe that’s not even it.  Do I have to define it? Does it even fucking matter at this point? I can feel the breathe being chocked right out of me as I start this… I should stop but I’m being pulled in… fuck you, Jami… they come at me from all directions like a horror movie.

Where are the Kinks?  Play it!  My good self is still here somewhere… shuffling around. .. play it, Jami… “here’s wishing you the bluest skies”…. still love you…. you are ok… walk away from the battle, baby.  Walk away from the battle.

Breath
Deep breathe
Breath

Get your shit together…

Over and out……

Breath…
Deep breathe
Breath

6 thoughts on “Hey Dirtbag…

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