You're fucking faded—
People like you that live in your own little world where you control everyone and everything you think you own.
Well marriage isn't a title of ownership tucked away in your glove compartment, and kids aren't property deeds either.
People like you may think people like us are delusional, but consider this:
We may be disturbed and traumatized, yet who put us through what made us this way?
You, whatever your intentions may be or may have been, it was you that did this to us, and we were weak enough to let it happen.
I'm not trying to play the victim card, I'm too proud and stubborn for that, but—
People like you are about 100 parts psychotic for every part psychotic that people like us are, if you want to put it in generic mental health terms.
How many offenses does it take for people like you to get the help you need, locked up on Psychopath Row?
People like you, I hope and pray for your healing—
For the lengthy painful healing process of your perineum, asshole, rectum, and colon—
after you are raped up the ass by a fucking broom handle.
I hope you're the prettiest person in the kennel you get locked up in—
So you get your face slashed.
And when you're covered from head to foot in bandages, when you're hooked up to the life support, as the IV drip-drops—
I hope all you see is you pulling your bitches hair while trying to shove her down the stairs, and everything you've ever done, that you will pay for, in the long run.
People like you....
People like us don't need people like you.
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