He hates me.
I know he does.
He looks at me like I'm the ugliest thing in the world.
He doesn't like my friends.
He doesn't like one thing about me.
He called me—
he called me a dirty tramp.
My own father.
I don't know if he means it.
I mean maybe he doesn't mean it,
but he acts like he does.
We were together.
We were gonna celebrate Easter
and we were gonna catch a double bill.
So I put on my new dress and I came out,
and he grabbed my face and started rubbing off all the lipstick.
I thought he'd rub off my lips.
And I ran out of that house.
I'll never get close to anybody.
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