All of these words I always wanted secretly for him to read. And then I wanted her to read it, and then him and then her and then him and then her. . .
Tongue-tied.
Disappointed in myself. Tears cannot even begin to clear my eyes of the thing I see in the mirror.
How could I not have learned any lessons in life? When did it become cool not to care anymore? Why can't I unfold into a beautiful butterfly and fly away and disappear into clouds where gravity never existed and morals never mattered and everything was pure and never exhausted.

The perfect song is cut short.

Try it again- this time with less emotional strain, this time with less tears. Go:
There is an excuse for all of this. The dreams where I let them see my body and my mother is laughing and my father touches me. I always want to make everyone happy. I wake up crying.
The tears are inevitable.
There is nothing I can do to stop the killing. There is nothing I can do to enable peace.
There is no going back. This is my regret, and when it is my time, I am ready to go.
World, you are such a dirty place. I am in such pain that people are not as innocent as I always thought they were. I am not as innocent as I always thought I was. God is dead.