This goes out to people
whose breasts aren't quite yet there...

Twas the night before saturday
and all through th day...

I don't get why you people think
liking me is good...

At school I am normal,
I am loved as well...

I hide it so well its impossible to see
whenever im hurting and the emo in me...

What am i to write about
in this lovely letter...

I once met a man that thought he was smart.
He said if I took off my shirt he could read my...

Now i lay me down to sleep
on my bed i have to weep...

I scream in my head mom
but my yells you cant hear...

I have an obsession
not like collecting wreaths...

Roses are red olives are black,
you were my friend but you can have it all back...

I look at the ring on my finger
and i think of you and me...