13 June 2012
Worthless I think as I look in the mirror. And my mother's reflection joins mine. And she walks up to me and whispers in my ear, yes you are worthless, the pain you have caused me and your brains and looks aren't even desirable. I hope you get leukaemia and DIE. Tears start to run down my face like rain running down the window and just like the rain the tears merge together and drip of my face and fall to the carpet and create spots just like the holes in my heart which have increased over the years, soon there will be no more left to shatter. You might as well play football with my heart it's bruised and battered all ready.
Football • Opuss № I