barthela

"Tell me what you think." "Of the poem?" "No, of my face. Yes, the poem." "I was going to say, because your face is just stupid." "Very funny. Read." "..." "What did you think?" "Why did you write this?" "I wrote it for you." "For me?" "Yes." "You make me self conscious when you say things like that." "I know." "I'm not worth this you know." "What does that mean?" "I am half a girl, and I deserve half a poem." "That is not true, and you still haven't told me what you really thought about it." "It's as broken and complex and half hearted as a sad song about the way you feel ink trail between your fingers like it's blood. There

"Tell me what you think." "Of the poem?" "No, of my face. Yes, the poem." "I was going to say, because your face is just stupid." "Very funny. Read." "..." "What did you think?" "Why did you write this?" "I wrote it for you." "For me?" "Yes." "You make me self conscious when you say things like that." "I know." "I'm not worth this you know." "What does that mean?" "I am half a girl, and I deserve half a poem." "That is not true, and you still haven't told me what you really thought about it." "It's as broken and complex and half hearted as a sad song about the way you feel ink trail between your fingers like it's blood. There