Angel of The South: A Southern Belle's Tale
Then I Was Back
I want nothing more than to use this as a way to vent. I am not some type of doll that can be fixed just how anyone wants. I am a person. Treat me like one. I am not oblivious to what you say so stop being immature and naive. I don’t hate anyone, that’s a strong word. Don’t pretend to know me and who I am or what has made me who I am today. Go to Hell. Sometimes I want to tell you that but I’m too mature and a Southern Lady to do so. If I could be half as immature as you are then I could be happy but I can’t even begin to try. Grow Up. I’m just about done with all of this, ready to throw something rather roughly at your head to see if it will knock sense into you and remind you what we had. There is very few people I trust anymore and even fewer I can open up to and let my guard down. If you were mature you’d realize that you should just say to my face all that you say behind my back. I’m nit going to keep my temper much longer, I don’t lose it often but you should be scared if I do. Don’t push me to it unless you’re prepared for what you’ll get. Did I mention: Fuck You, you can’t have say on what I can or can’t do or who I can or can’t be friends with. Hope Hell is Happy.
My life in the South, the home of my heart and soul. I am no angel of my own accord, and a belle by birth.
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