[X-Posted from tumblr, sorry I thought I had it here too. Original date mark of the tumblr post is June 7, 2018 7:02 pm]
Today I told Sevencardz to get the fuck out of my life.
I’m dealing with 30+ years of PTSD and the recognition I’m by no fucking means Neurotypical at all.
I am not your mother. If you don’t know what you did “unless I tell you” I have no responsibility to spoon feed you and have you spit it back up like a fucking baby.
Get thE FUCK out of my god damn life.
Doors open, for now. But I know you’re not gonna use it. That’d be admitting you were wrong. Saying to my face and to yourself you have the ability to be wrong.
I’ll shut it later, I’ll lock it too. But if ya knock, I’ll answer. But you’re not going to knock. So I’m not scared.
I’ve lived with toxicity being forced through my veins by my genetic brethren and affiliates my entire life. When I tried to detox those calling themselves my friends just swapped it for their own named brand.
I’m holding on to the blood that’s mine.
The blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb.
Get out of my veins.