lagoon .

PMS.

You know the reason is just a concoction of imbalanced hormones in your brain. (I think)

That doesn't make the pain any less real.
That doesn't make the feelings any less intricate.

Words!
They build, they bury.

The impact of those words obviously not arranged together carefully may leave others wondering what their wake would be like.

These words hurt, felt like an icicle piercing through the remnants of this life form, though I know not of that icicle, and its capability to injure. It simply seemed like the appropriate word to use.

What is expected of me?
Aren't I a being with the right to dictate my actions?
Why are those whom you find yourself surrounded with by force, the ones designed to be your pillars, the ones to cause your world to crumble, or well, crack it just enough so the rest of the world can dump in?

I remember this, "You're not even all that beautiful. With that little beauty you have also you're behaving like this, imagine what will happen if you're actually beautiful."

"Who sent you to class?"
"She did."
"Oh. So that means she's sleeping now of course", he snickered.

What have you, a mere tittle of nothingness, accomplished in your miserable life, for you to be giving out crude remarks?

Yes, I wouldn't be who I am today without her, them.
How long though?
How long, or how much will it take for me to repay that debt?

xx