post letters here that i would never send

You know your death is on my hands. The other day, my bitch of a father brought you up to intentional hurt me. And he succeeded. I felt a little of me die inside when he mentioned so hurtfully that your death was on my hands. Your blood was on my hands. On what charge? Of not looking after you properly. Know that I’ve always loved you despite your neediness and dependence on me. If I could reverse charges, I’d have sent you to live with someone more caring who could provide for you more. You should’ve been free but behind the wire cage, you were solely dependent on me. So when you fell for the last time, it seemed I fell too. Sunk into the depth of my conscience who whispered salty words into my blistered mind. This sounds all poetic and crap but truly, you didn’t deserve what you got.
Now, if only you, as my darling bird, could ever find it in your poor heart to forgive my mistreatment.
I’d be in your debt forever.

I know you’re no longer on the same plane of life as me any more. I know I wasn’t some bosom buddy but we were friends. But I’m finding it harder each day to remember the true you. All I see is what was written in the tabloids. With that sinking fear of going on bridges, across or under. I miss you. Even if I didn’t know you that well, to have been talking to you as a close friend the day before you…
Truth to be told, I don’t even remember when you….
I’m seeing the psychologist now. They don’t seem to get how I could forget. Neither can I.
But the scars remain.

We’ve got issues don’t we?
Not much I can say seeing all my rant’ness has been blown out of me by the pacifiying presence of a friend but still I feel obliged to bitch once more.
You botch everything.
You say you give me choice when you don’t. You think you’re all that. You think you’re flawless.
Reality check darl, you’re not. No one is.
And you go to the trouble to flaunt your chauvinistic nature in pretending you’re trying to help without giving any space to manouvere.
Now tell me, how is that fair?

How do I feel right now? As melancholy as the wind through the willows. I guess the sad music doesn’t help either. Before though, I was angry. As angry enough to kill someone; and this isn’t just an expression. You guys really hurt me deep today. You know I take things far to seriously for priority to count. But you made me die a little inside. I was crying far too hard trying to get that pain out of my heart. Not that anyone who matters cares of course. Now it’s just a matter of time.
Worse still, I humiliated myself. See, the way I release tension and stress, pain or suffering from myself, I sing. Loudly. On key but in my terrible voice… croaky from a cold.
And who do I walk into but a bunch of lanky youths, staring at me with somewhat amazement with a slight smirk on each lip? I had enough troubles but this almost pushed me off the edge. To top it off, I was wearing my minicut skirt I use for skating. Naturally, I bolted.
Even now, I feel like i want to be loved though I know I’am (somewhat). I just want … look, I don’t even know what I want now. I just feel sick to the core and I just want to crawl in a hole and die. And i sound like some kind of depressed little emo kid in the corner crying her guts out.
Maybe that’s me?
Maybe it’s not.

I hate you.

Well, overall, I hate people who raise my hopes only to dash them. To kill me a little inside. To break me into some inconsolable wreck.

You’ve made a new enemy today.

Good work.

You’re weird, you know that? You confuse me GREATLY. I mean, you actl like a total sleaze at times and at others; you’re actually pretty decent. Which confuses me all the more.

Why can’t you be decent 24/7?

I dont’ hate you; I thought you should know but that you make me feel less than a penny; that feeling I hate. Your mum says you don’t hang with girls cause you think their too emotional whereas boys lack this sentimentality so you hang with them but you know what I think?

You’re just friggen hormonal, pixie. You’re digging the boys like a dog witha juicy bone; getting what you can get. Which results you in leaving the girls cold and treating us like bugs underfoot.

If we’re to emotional, what are you? On extra oestrogen? My insults don’t deploy effectively what I mean so there’s nothing more to say.

I don’t know what it is about you but there’s something there that really annoys me. I don’t know whether it’s your obsession with your supposedly “cute” state or your possessive addiction to what you define as best friends but it really bites at my temper sometimes. You’re so obvious yet stupid sometimes. I think you know it but you’re playing your stupid blonde act. Well, guess what? It doesn’t work in a girl’s school darling.
This is just a short bitching session.

Aren’t you lucky?

Darling, you’re too into the rebel momentum. Just let go. You’re always so uptight, temperturous and emotional; you gotta let go. You let the littlest things disturb your sense of peace and have an attraction the dark side of sorts. Like jumping the gates at the station. Anything to save a little money right? That’s what you think. But you, my dearest conscience, leave me with the bitter taste of fear under my tongue whenver I see the cops. I know it’s wrong but you gotta know it’s not my fault they refuse to give me a train ticket cause their cheap asses.

Then there’s your obsession with food. You’re like obsessed with junk and check out that result; an ugly muffin top peeking out from between your singlet and short shorts. Not a pretty look darlin’. Now get rid of it.

You gotta stop thinking food.

As well as being a scrouge.

I mean, I guess you can’t help it but.

OH, before i forget, there’s your want of a boyfriend. Or rather a boy to hang out with; to trust and have fun with. To be the ultimate of friends if not for a while. You’ve tried and tried and tried to persuade yourself that you don’t need these male species but it seems like its failing. It’s time to let go and consider what’s really important.

Time to wake up and smell the daisies darling.

Just get out of my system why don’t you? You’re keeping me awake at night and along with your best buddy, periods, I’m leaking all over the bed! Just cause you don’t have to clean up doesn’t mean you can make a mess of my health.

Now shoo.

Begone.

Please.