I promised myself (and my mom and my dad and my therapist and my best friends)
that I would
do it again
'cause it's a bad, bad thing and
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry but just hearing that word gives me shivers."
But I was just wondering what a difference it makes to them
if I'm the who deserves it.
And I was just thinking I could put a heart on my thigh,
(with a big fat X in the middle because people say I'm nice but sometimes I just don't know)
'cause it would look really pretty,
all upside down and out of place and everything,
even though tattoos are against my religion
(so I guess I might as well make the heart blood red 'cause I deserve it, after all.)
And I guess the worst thing is that this time,
I don't care that it's bad or that it's disgusting or that it's wrong
(or that the heart on my thigh that's supposed to be pretty is now an ugly mess of brown scabs and burns like fucking hell every time my jeans rub against it.)
'Cause I don't regret it and no,
I'm not even sorry.
author's note: yeah...um...this is pretty terrible and very obviously unedited. I just wrote and i wrote and i wrote to get it all out. :^)