difficult doesn't describe how it feels to remember, but it really doesn't hurt much anymore. it's easy to be sleazy ain't it? i say it is, but it sure does suck to clean up after the party is over. the party- oh man it was a party too- you always came dressed up. i understand why you ain't allowed to wash your party uniforms in the house. they're dirty on the inside. i am sorry. not so much for anything i did though, but for the things i didn't do sooner. of all the times it was described to me, the words you used about your life, all of the adjectives you carefully chose for me to draw what i suppose were my own conclusions about your cuntface wife. to all of the times i listened to what you had to say, and all of the endless nights i fell asleep only to pray- that it would be your promises and love to lift me from the hole i'd sealed my self into- like you promised me a million times you would. i'm still cleaning up the mess. it was just your party. it was just your mess. we coulda had a friendly party with little mess. but we should have had no party at all. how's that make you feel?
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| someone else got their hero LMAO |
