Every thing i do is wrong. I try, but that's who i am. Maybe you don't know me. No one knows. I know i have these fucked up PMS's. I don't even know how to deal with them myself. What you do to me, you will get back threefolds; at least. I will make you feel lower than the lowest dog on Earth.

I am cruel. I am evil. I am whatever. I am the wind. I am the shroud. I am a disaster.

I can be a nightmare or a sweet dream. I can be a bed of roses or the thorns that hide beneath.

I need you to help me find myself.

Don't leave me be, because the anger will be trapped. And each time, it just piles up inside. I cannot free it. Only you. But you don't know that. Because you are angry at me.

For doing everything wrong.

Teach me. Help me. Fuck me.

suri thought at 1:20 AM