Why wasnt I the type of child who asked questions?
Why cant they talk to me now?
I just let everyone give up on me.
and my room is messy and i complain too much and I cry durring stupid tv shows.
I just want to have a conversation.
But I can barely breathe. And I hate this room. I forgot to make wish tonight.
You werent here. You said you alway would be. We Lied. I'm So Sorry. I want to be like I was before. I had a reason to cry, but now I have no reasons for anything.
What if my mom takes me back to that psychologist? What if I dont know how to answer her questions?
Maybe bitterness is a part of life, part of what drives us.
I think I need to go see uncle peter.
But does bitterness drive us to do horrible things?
Tell me, who's life am I changing? Who's life is changing mine?
Do we want to be unknown? Because everyone I see is actually hidden.
I miss friend Kim. She wasnt hidden, she was there. I dont know where she is now.
She probably found someplace happy, with her pretty dress and hippie purse.
She talked to me. Even if it wasnt for my sake.
I let people give up on me.
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