-untitled.

The blue skirt is up,
and waiting for admittance.
If you're as young as you feel, 
Why is death so feared?

You ripped my dress,
i feel dismembered.
My antipathy towards you is sick,
Why do I hold myself responsible?

You're a degenerate,
and you pollute everything you touch.
I'm possessed with feelings, I can't describe.
How could you hurt me and not even care?

You've desecrated me, and my purity,
and it makes me ill to think about it.
If I had one more wish in this whole wide world,
It would be for you to be dead.

Are these not the words of one hurt girl?
Does your soul not wrench at my pain?
Can you feel how much you hurt me?
Do you know that I want you to feel the same?