Friday, October 14
arrest me
Everyday, I ask myself why do I still look around to find you.
Why? Why am I punishing myself?
I murdered myself. I killed myself by looking at him.
I should die and go straight to hell.
It's your fault.
It's your fault that I am so afraid to see you.
It's your fault.
It's your fault that it almost seems impossible to be happy again.
It's your fault.
It's your fault that I am what I am now.
It's your fault.
