You make me want to scream. Not in excitement but a type of blood-curling scream from deep within that makes you think someone’s getting murdered. My anger is making my stomach turn. I’ve imagined sticking a pencil in your eye repeatedly over twenty times. I won’t harm you or raise my voice so I slowly dig into my lip with my teeth. As I taste the blood in my mouth my ears are in agony from your unrealistic expectations and point of views. In frustration I raise my hands to my hair put my fingers through it and pull for a few seconds. Making excuses to get away I nearly don’t leave fast enough so you can’t hear me breakdown in tears. My eyes fill and they pour down my cheeks. With quivering lips I try to stop crying and calm myself. All I wanted was someone to talk to.