I’m just reading this one for my enjoyment. I’m tempted to make editing comments. I might do so after I talk about the lines I like!

[Selling myself out in the wrong outlets.] At first, I thought, the outlet in sockets, but we’re talking about -shopping- outlets. Lololol.

[Suffocating on false doting.] I haven’t seen anyone use the word “doting” in months. it’s a really good word, and works well with this poem. “False doting” reminds me of a child playing with a kitten and forgetting all about the cute little thing in favor of ice cream: (four months later…) “Mommy…? Where’s Snow bal?” Lmao.

[Its always the same. Always about sex. I'm a good kid, I don't do that **. If I were to do it, they'd just leave me. Everybody leaves in the end.] this and this [And time and time again... I'm alone. With no one but my slutty self.] Contradictory statements, unless the speaker only said the first lines about being a good kid to convince herself, and the real reality is what’s underlined. Because sometimes, people think they’re ** for all sorts of things that aren’t really slutty, just borderline flirtatious. I’m pretty strict on my self-values, but really, sometimes people are too ** themselves!

[And with the loss of half my heart... I don't want to be saved.] I hear this.

[Or the self-satisfaction of knowing you can't defeat a continuous line of failures? Or that you just have ** luck in guys.] Lol. Sad…

[Doused in deceit and the lies I tell myself.] I like the way “doused” is used in this context.

[But it no longer repulses me. Its tempting. Everything is tempting. The need to be 'in' or 'accepted' ringing in my ears.] I don’t know what that feels like, but it sounds scary…

So, was this a note, like, a confidence in someone? [P.s. If I let go of your hand, don't let me fall apart. If I push you away, embrace me tightly. If I try to hide, pry into my life. If I seem to die, please try to revive. In adulation with malady You've always been my remedy] Was it like those letter-memoirs that people send to other people during war time? I mean, was it supposed to have that feel to it? A person relaying their feelings in a vintage-veteran manner to let the other person know what it feels like? A “Been there, done that, Please Surprise me (with faithfulness)” kind of thing…?

It’s effective, and thank God the ending has some kind of consolation in it. At least there is a contrast reaped from the piece itself, and it ends kind of on a hopeful bitter-sweet note.

I really think that this piece deserves attention, though. Or else,y our subconscious wouldn’t have felt the need to post it. So I’m going to go through some edits and blah-blah at you in my annoying way. I apologize for my analness. … That isn’t even a word. XD

[Or maybe its just an every 2 year thing. 1 bad break up, ** around, a good one, a bad break up, ** up again.] Please, just fix the numbers and type them out! This piece is worthy of your attentions!

[it might spread.] Come on! Care about the children you birth! *It.

I’d like to see this piece with appropriate contractions. It’s worthy of another edit. Looks at all the “its” that should be “it’s” in the piece. Decides to mentally change them. The piece is worthy of your time, and very well-written, even if it is a bit depressing… Though, the conviction that oozes from it scares me. It’s like an autobiography, which, I’m led to believe, that’s exactly what this is…

It’s well-written, though, very bloggish. I think you could really reap something from your experiences and turn this into something monolithic, something of a masterpiece. Just have faith in yourself and your own abilities, utilize your own experiences and share your insights. Another person might find empowerment and comfort in this piece, if only you give it the right medium and perfect temperature for reading. Please reconsider working this into a short story, or at least editing it with the attentions of a school essay. It deserves you.

this story just struck me...amazing

keep writing

-me