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The Letter

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I can’t look at you the same. You think I can, but I can’t. You think we are best friends, but what about our past. The letter? The words you threw at me like a baseball to my gut. I won’t forget it, and I know you won’t either. But still, you try. You try to erase your memory. You try to become friends with everyone, wear skimpy clothes, get peoples attention, and act like we’re friends. We’re not friends. What about those threats you sent me. They stung me like a bug against my fragile body. I’m easily hurt, and you know that. I just keep wondering what are you going to do next? The letter you sent, those words went like this I recall, “I hate you. Everyone hates you.” You knew what those words did to me. A year has gone bye, and I still can’t get them out of my mind. And all you want to do is prance around, grab my arm, and sing with me in the talent show. I can see your dark side underneath. Its still there. Its just hidden deep under the polished nails, the 6-inch heals, and the fake smile. All of it's still there. I know you know your words still haunt me. Or do you not remember your threat. I remember it going something like “I’m going to commit suicide because of you.”



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