What You Don't Know

It's not a poem it's a moan, it actually happened, last year... And it doesn't rhyme or make sense.

I'm crying. Angry. I'm shouting, people are watching. I storm off, with clouded eyes. Red hazes my vision. Curses, fall of my tongue. I'm sobbing, he notices, for once. Someone grabs my hand, electric. I brush it off, door slammed open. A locker punched shut. People have followed. "whats wrong?" Just shut up. A teacher has noticed. I'm trying to breathe, annoying little brat. What you do to me. Your annoying, your jealous, possessive, two faced and selfish, you moan, you bitch behind my back, you always have to be right, your controlling, I hate you. I bet you don't know that.

What's worse is your supposed to be there for me. my best friend. Supposedly.