There are things that I like and things that I hat. the comprehension of things said and done reflect upon the waters of our soul. the pain of being an outcast is nothing new to me. it's ironic how people don't think. the say and do things that hurt. I am me I am not a robot some times I feel as if I am suffercaiting. I feel like Amber with a flaw I hate feeling worthless and that I am not good enough to breath. I hate that I have to claw my way up, and out of a den. I hate being alone without him without his touch. my perogetive and need has switched. what am I who am i? the questions run rampid in my mind as the demons taunt me.
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