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The day in the life of Stella.
Just poetry and what not that comes to me at random intervals of time when I'm sittin' in my good ole' computer chair.
You don't care at all.
Stop yelling at me.
Stop screaming.
Stop swearing.
Stop hitting me.
I'm sick of it.
You're gonna get it one of these days.
I've been broken enough.
This is the end I swear.
If I'm going down, hell you're coming right down with me.
Every wound I have bleeds.
It's your time to bleed.
Bleed from my wounds.
Feel my pain.
Feel your heart breaking?
Feel those tears stinging your eyes?
Feel your body giving up on you?
Feel the struggle I was put through?
You stabbed me in the back.
Metaphorically of course.
I'll stab you back.
I swear it won't be metaphorically.
I hate you.
Hate is an ugly word they say.
You're an ugly person.
Who does ugly things.
I think it's time you left now.
Don't try and say you're sorry.
This is all your fault.
It's never going away.





 
 
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