My lashes are wet.

From all the tears I've shed.

“Don't cry..

..You look like a big baby.”

“Im hurt”

“You're only 14..

..you don't know the first thing about being hurt”

“Oh but i do”

“That sharp pain..

That ball in my throat.

That stops me from screaming while I cry…

That beat in my heart.

That tells me something is wrong.

That cold wave that runs down my body

And make me weep

While i shake 

And silently cry.

For hours.

No one hears you.

But they can look into my eyes.

And read my story.

You haven't looked long enough.

You haven't completed the story.

And you don't feel it.

You don't feel my pain yet.

5 more seconds of a staring contest

And you’d be crying too.

My face is dry. My arms are weak.

I'm weak.

Im fucking broken.

I needed you.

You were there.

But you didn't care.

So yes. I am fucking hurt.”

“That doesn't mean anything”

“If you lived my life it would mean everything.

You wouldn’t be able to handle 5 minutes in my life.”

“I'm sorry..”

“Not your not. You just feel guilty. And you want to make yourself feel better.

By apologizing. And its not gonna fucking work.”