Dear Siren, dont get mad because my words are heart seeking missles and youre an oversensitive mess just like I am. Dont get msd that i know exactly what buttons to press to make you either want to cry, f***, kill yourself. Orr want to hold me.
No. Be mad that you never got to be ridden by, be t****** and spanked by a real man. Be mad that you cant have s** with your boyfriend without getting so beat up you have to have needles shoved in your hips to dull the pain of fatsos weight bearing down on you. How does that even work Siren? Im assuming you have to be on top because he would crush you like a bug, but im also assuming you csnt even do penetrative s**. Its probably like 90 percent oral, fingerbanging, and toys.
Be mad that i never got to turn you inside out on the train tracks.
Be mad that thousands of men you dont know havr masturbated to your t******.
Be mad thwt youll never b3 wble to get married.
Be mad that I never got to smother you with affection.
Be mad that im not waiiting for you anymore.
Be mad that karma isnt real, and that ill be just fine going on while you fall apart from all the trauma ive displaced onto you.
Be mad that it never had to end like this, you chose this path and you have to live with it. You coulda just chose right the first time. Instead, time and time again. You made the wrong choice.
Die mad you f****** shithead. I love making you crazy. You chose this by keeping your distance.
