I remember when we first met. You were 16, I was 12. You said I was cute and I said you were full of heart. You had the best smile and the nicest personality, but you had scars along your arms and slashes across your heart. After a few weeks we joked around claiming we could be soul mates. That's the last I heard from you, 6 months, 2 weeks and 4 days ago. Its a shame I cant get to you today though, afterall it is your birthday. So happy fucking birthday. You are now 17 and one year away from being a legal adult. I'm sorry she did what she did, I'm sorry I met you, and I'm sorry but happy fucking seventeenth. I'll sit here with blood running down my arms and my best knife clutched close by, hidden in a vail of tears. I hope you are having fun wherever you are, doing whatever you may be doing, and if you see this, Star, I hope you know that I did awknowledge your fucking birthday yet again.
like your style..thank you for all your comments..
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