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so you think that she told you everything huh? silly little girl with your silly little tears. you know nothing and she knows less. her misery is like an infection, seeping into the lives of thoes around her. her putrid hate and self loathing creeps across her mind and into yours. all the secrets she tells you. are they real? or do you just WANT to believe them. you want to break into my thoughts and see what no one else does. it breaks you that i wont let you in. so when this sad little girl tells you something, true or not, you believe it, hold it close to your heart. you want a secret of mine? listen closely. hold your breath so you dont miss a word.
she knows nothing. the only feeling i can drudge up for her is a trickle of pity that she cant hold on to the only good thing that ever happened to her. oh, and by the way? there is no charade. this is exactly who i am. cruel as it may be. sorry to inform you, i am not exactly a little ray of sunshine and butterflies.
so really. pick your sad self up and decide what exactly it is that you want. and in the name of all that is holy, stop listening to that sad little girl in her sad little apartment with her sad little lies.