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There are a thousand things I want to say to you and yet I stare at this screen, but fingers urge to push the buttons that will form all my anger into a supposedly dramatic dialoged. I don't care if I sound vague or dramatic, or even oddly specific. But to narrow it down you're sick. You listened when I had no voice and took note of all of my insecurities and all of my doings. You put them into your own diary and wrote your opinion on more than just who liked who. You put me as a puppet in your own little show and inserted me a script from which I had no choice but to recite. You then dumped my words into other people's ears. Their mouths contained with your evil vengeance; my love now shattered. You sit with people who use to be my friends, who use to have hearts around their names when I wrote them in my diary. You took my pen, and I found a new one, I write their names in red and leave the hearts for someone else. How dare you how dare you how dare you. You tore my pages and ripped my words from end to end. How dare you. And you know how wrong you are. You haven't made eye contact with my hazel eyes in weeks, and I look at your blue ones and I know they are a sea of lies. You are a jealous man who didn't get what he wanted. Stop acting like the victim and drowning in your iris. I deserve an apology, and don't you think for one second you can take my life apart and THINK you can get away with it. You are a stranger to me. And I will never forgive you.
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