Once, I remember.

There's something inside me,
screaming with despair,
reaching out for help,
struggling to survive,
depleting everyday as I getting hurt over and over again,
sensitive,
sentimental.
It feels so familiar,
I think I remember its name,
once,
if I'm not mistaken,
it's once called as "My Heart".

Yes,

I admit,

I'm really a cheap bitch,

easily entertained,

never tired of being treated as a junk,

worth nothing but useful as a tool to some extent.

Seriously,

you're so disgusting,

and I'm so wrong in trusting you 

that you're not one of the typical bastards.

Acting like a dick,

smiling like a fucker as you desired something from me,

that I could help you get what you want?

Fuck off,

I'm pissed.

I can tell you,

I'm really that cheap,

but that doesn't mean you can treat me as cheap as I do.

If you think I'm annoying,

ignore me then.

You don't have to freaking tell everyone that I'm annoying,

and you're annoyed,

it's like oh-my-God-see-he-is-so-annoying,

as a man,

you sucks.

If you don't want to talk to you,

it's totally fine,

shut up and keep your head away,

you don't have to ask someone else to entertain me,

as if I'm begging you to give me respond.

Fuck No,

I'm NOT.

I don't need to be entertained,

I'm not your pet,

nor your secret admirer,

and never will be your sincere friend,

not after what you did to me.

Enough, is enough.

Once or twice is enough.

But, *voila*

history do repeats.

It repeats,

not until I feel tired,

but until I cannot even feel tired.

Yes,

I'm that sensitive,

few words are powerful enough to crush my mind.

Provided,

I care for what you've said and what will you say.

Well,

who else can I blame other than myself?

I'm this cheap,

and I have to stop barking and keep being cheap.

However,

at least I can't be,

not in front of you,

bastard.

- Fantasy . Lockheart -

Get up, bitch, don't lose your pride.