I'm crying the blood that was drained from my body with my knife in my one moment of desperation, to get away from the world.

I knew you didn't love me, I knew that from the beginning, but that didn't stop me from hopping. Didn't stop me from trying. Trying to get you to love me.

But everytime, you pushed me farther away. You did everything in your power to show me that I wasn't good enough for you. As if I hadn't already known that.

You, with your pure thoughts, and holiness radiating off of you. You looked like a goddess, standing there, in that dingy ally, hiding behind your baggy clothing and slutty friends.

But I saw you. The true you.

Not that it mattered. You were too good for me. Always were, always will be.

And even if somehow, by a miracle, I became even half the saint you were, no, -are-, it still wouldn't do any good. Because you like boys, not girls. And even if you liked both, you have wolfboy, sorry, Oz. You love him.

I'm trying to get rid of all the bad. Maybe it'll leave my body with my blood. Maybe if it does, I can be -good- enough to be your friend, at least. Maybe I will get the chance too try to make it up to you, the chance to make up with you, too get you to forgive me for all the things I've done to you. Like the time I threatened to kill you in Mayor's office. I never would have hurt you, but what was I going to do, kiss you fully on the mouth and declare my undying love? Ya, that would've worked.

So I continue to cut, to bleed for you, trying to get rid of all of my sins. Because I love you, and it's all I can do to even get close enough to be good enough for you. So I'll keep bleeding. I'll keep crying. And I'll keep trying. But it doesn't matter what I do.

But I'll be dead soon. I know B is after me, and I'd rather die at my own hand then her's. Maybe then, you'll hate me less. I've written you a note, explaining everything, and asking you to at least try to understand. I don't want you to forgive me, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve anything from you, but I can try.

God, how much I love you. How much I'd love to just kiss you lightly on the cheek. I sound like a sap, wishing I could do things with you that I've always made fun of other people for doing. But I can't help it. Because no matter what I do to try to chance it, I'm still in love with you. I still love you, and I know I always will.

You don't love me, and you never will, because you're a goddess and I'm scum, working for a man who is completely evil. And to you, I'm evil, too.

I'm crying and bleeding, using my knife on my own body, cutting away my unclean flesh, draining my unclean blood, to get away from the world.

To get away from you.

Because I can't stand the looks of hate, disgust and revulsion I got from you even before you knew I worked for Mayor. So I'm crying and bleeding, trying to force all my pain to go away.

'Cause I've gotta get away from you.

Ironic, I love you, and you're the one person I can't stand to face.

So I've gotta get away.

End