feeling murderous now.
think the people next block might have dialed 995.
thick fumes emitting from my pores.
think if you put a kettle on my head now, the water would start boiling really soon.
that is how mad i am.
seriously.

why must you twist my words into things i never meant?
am i that difficult to you?
do i ask for alot?
if my likes and dislikes matter that much, i wouldn't have been in tears so often.
if you really meant what u say, i wouldn't have had to try convince myself that it is still so every so often.
the accusations.
those stringfuls of hurtful words.
they hurt more than any physical infliction.
alot more.

why?
simply because i love you.
and sometimes, the feeling sucks.