Boys like you are scum. Boys like you are the worst. Boys like you make me have psychosis.






You're a scourge on the earth. You're the disease that wipes out my Spore populace.

If I put you in the Sims and I put me in the Sims with the violence and drugs mod we would kiss and then kill each other and I would cry at your grave and it would drive me to keep killing, keep hunting, keep killing brcause I still sickly miss you.

The you taht was you. You who is here right now is no more.

I can smell you across the tennis court.

In deinem blühenden Grab ruhst du.





I wish you cared. It went straight to voicemail again. I wish you would respond, only once.

Your phantomn haunts my brain.

If I dipped you in rat poiosn you wouldn't smell a trace. If i offered it to you on a silver platter, knowing the warmth to be from the elephant's foot, 400 Kelvins of love and compassion and toxic radiation, the heat of the sun burning your back. My eyes piercing you and burning you as if it were beams.

I imagine this - I, working as a dentist's office receptionist; you, with your sick and dying mouth, seeking operations once more,addicted to the pain of the tools in your mouth, clearly, or why would you eat such shit. He yells at you and you seem to relish the scolding. So off you go, with a weighty bill and a numb mouth.

I ask you, "Would you like a mint?" You must be addicted to the pain, or why would you eat such shit.





How bitterseweet, to be cared for, like an ailing patient awaiting the sweet release of ddeath. To feel you slipping through my hands, a slow and steady drip like syrup.

A steady tap from the trunk of the maple tree. Siphoning this nourhishment. And yet you still eat such shit.

Whehn I wake up from these restless dreams of us taking cute pictures in a purikura booth and going bankrupt at Forever21. UneasilyI wake, the sound of my neighbor mowing her lawn at 4am again. Spmetimes I think. I reminsce. I imagine what it'd be like if you were still there.

When I see trash on the side ofhthe highway I think of you. I think if you died there I would commemorate you in trash. Crumpled pieces of newspaper and KitKat wrappers and soda cans. This plastic wasteland, a sea of nauseating colours, I wish you could think of me the same way.





There's nothing left of him. He's skin hanging from the bone, hardly cooked meat. A rattling tree barren of leaves waiting for the anthracnose.

Do you know that little albino bitch from IDV. I like to look at him and think of you. Digging his graves and running from the killers. Do you think of me to,, I wonder. When I throw myself away on gacha. I'm wortheless, I know.

I miss you. I don't desrve you. The zipper o muy jacket got broekn off and I just zipped myslf up in it and got stucklike this.

Ikmow you won't answer my tetxts but I'm really stuck right now. I know I should just crawl in thedryer and put myself to tumble.I have so many problems. I'm worthless.