They’ll be sad whatever way you tell them. You can’t escape what every silky sentence you create truly means. The venom behind it.
You’re so used to manipulation. It’s always so clear you’re the only innocent one. Even with bloody hands, you were never there. But I was. Ive always been, and while I used to be under your spell, I’m over that. I see what changed. What niche you lost, the way you switched. The way you changed from good little girl, sweet and innocent and pure to arrogant and self aggrandizing. That makes me sick. What made you sick? Finger down your throat, look in the mirror; you’re finally pretty now unleash the witch because that’s what you were waiting on. To prove all those dumb teen movies a reality. Pretty makes you a bitch.