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Dear Girl,
Please go away.

You don’t love me,
You ‘luv’ me,
Because the latter is only a ghost of the first.
Don’t worry though,
I don’t hate you for it,
I only h8 you!

You don’t need me anyway,
Please go on,
You’ve got 2,435 profiles to ‘luv’ you less than I ever could.

See, we only ‘luv’ those famed children in Africa,
Because it’s only fifty cents to fix him up for today,
But tomorrow’s 50 cents?
Gee, sorry.

That’s the money you’re saving up for the next iPhone, right?
You know, the one that does basically the same things as the one you have now?
It takes better pictures though,
Better pictures to take of yourself,
You are always taking pictures of yourself,
Endlessly taking pictures of yourself.

I don’t think you even love your phone!
You drop it,
Lose it,
Cuss at it.
But that’s okay!
It’s only an inanimate object,
It has no feelings,
Say, that reminds me of how you treat someone else I know!
Her name starts with M and ends with E,
Take a wild guess.

Dear girl,
What do you love?

I believe that you truly love pictures,
The kind that have you in them,
Where you look pretty,
Happy,
Athletic,
Older,
Where you don’t look like yourself.

They aren’t pictures of you,
They’re pictures of you when you are at your best,
At your high-points.
Don’t tell me that your life is a high point.
I know you,
The real, true, splendid you,
That is becoming quite distant now.

Dear girl,
Stop saying you love me.

Stop saying ‘OMG I love you girlie!’
When I help you with your homework,
Carry your stuff,
Wait with you in the lunch line while my own food gets cold,
Become your slave,
Just to be ‘luved’.

Our friendship was great when it was fresh,
But as it ripened, it rotted as well,
And I feel as though it is way beyond its due date now.

You’re always telling me about these people that you hate,
But you only hate them because they’re prettier than you.
See, that’s the ‘h8’ kind of hate.
You can’t possibly hate that girl over there,
You’ve never talked to her,
You’ve never given her a chance,
You’ve not only acted h8ful towards her,
But hateful,
Because she likes the same boy that you like.
H8, h8, h8.


Dear girl,
Take some advice, will you?

Learn to love,
Learn to hate,
Learn to like,
Learn to dislike,
Learn that people who love, hate, like, and dislike,
Are loved, hated, liked, and disliked as well.


I wrote this about my former best friend in my Freshman year of highschool. You know how those things go! They get one look at some blonde haired cutie and bang! Gone.
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