unsent bullets ✶

(thoughts i don’t say out loud because they’re true and therefore…mean.)

➔ sprinting toward a boyfriend who won’t slow-jog to a ring—full joker parade, confetti included.

➔ no, i don’t think you’re hot—hit the gym, hit a vegetable, idk...man.

➔ baby, it’s weird—right? how your side-girl still obsessively refreshes my feed while simultaneously flunking self-respect 101—remedial clown hours.

➔ no—yeah, letting kids get abused on your watch, willingly and knowingly…makes you a bad mom. no footnotes, no sympathy credits.

➔ babe, you’re sobbing over the walmart-wife starter pack while her legal husband sleeps next to her in the double-wide. next channel.

➔ bro, i don’t need your sad-boy trauma powerpoint—can you even google “how to ask a question?” no slow clap.

➔ your son’s not misunderstood, ma—he’s incompetent. stop bubble-wrapping his spinelessness.

➔ dream girl? please. you raw-dogged her in the backseat while your babymama grew your spawn. gold star for trash.

➔ wild that you pitched “let’s make a family” then bolted like a toddler who heard the word “bedtime.” talk about babydaddy speed-run to ghost-mode.

➔ your entire travel life “arc” was my summer filler episode in 2015. skip.

➔ all that hype and your dick still stuttered—aren’t you thirty? book a doctor, seek help. no, it’s not normal.

➔ never volunteered for the mouth-to-soft-serve rescue. hard pass. abort mission.

➔ you’d crucify a woman for outdated-recycled-gym-thirst-traps, yet you rolled in serving santa-belly beta. update the files, jesus christ.

➔ jealousy isn’t a personality, babe—it’s giving incognito stalker with push alerts on. get a hobby.

➔ him? hubby folklore: absentee babydaddy, wants a wife to bankroll his broke-boy fantasies. comeback tour cancelled.

➔ insecure over a single-mom law student escaping dv? weird flex. seek therapy, not my socials.