Despite your self-indulgence,
you let your wounds fester in the sun,
apply more makeup on that ugly ass face,
it only reflects your empty, heartless gut;
the pale, artificial robot that
functions on gossip and feeds by word of mouth,
spewing the puke that only clones like you could produce;
speak those words of hate once more,
I've done nothing,
and unlike you,
I don't keep score
(that's right,you're a whore)
Get your little friends in on it too,
it makes for a good laugh anyway,
listening to all the dumbass things
they have to say,
(not finished)
Author notes
about bf's crazy ex
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