Dear Life,

I'd like to have a short chat with you.
And wipe that smirk off your face, this is serious.

Time after time have you mocked me,
shunned me,
laughed at me,
done things to me for your own amusement.

TIme and again have you used me,
used me to make yourself feel good.

And then you give a sadistic smile and give me someone.
But what do you do?
You take that someone with your wretched hands and place them away,
away to a place probably unreachable.
Is this another game to you?
Probably.

What have I been to you?
A puppet.
A form of entretainment.
Your toy.

Well, guess what?
The tables have turned.
The strings cut loose,
The forms warped,
The toy broken.

I have been set free by noneother than your twin sister.
That's right.
Your own blood.
Yet at the same time.
Your sworn enemy for all eternity.

I've come to tell you that I've finally broken from your grasp.
I've broken from your shackles.
I've raised above the sea and finally taken a breath of that bitter air.

So, as most conversations end.

Good Bye.