Fuck you.

I packed my life into my fist and then I punched the sidewalk. Bits scattered, wind blew, and all I’m left is broken. And it’s wrong, but it hurts too much to care anymore. You say you’re bleeding, but what have I been doing for the past three years? Just sitting idly by? And you spit my secrets over everything, while I still have yours tucked away neatly. I can’t sink to your level, but I sure can want to. I love how…