Content Warning: Loads of C-words again. Not super friendly to people that hate strong language, or attacks, or like, bad mean poems about bad mean things. I guess this is a letter to myself. I have been lying to myself for a while, maybe since forever. Have been getting better at recognizing it.



–by Becky WTGH(‘s past self who recently died)


You’re a fucking liar

You lied

and you’re a cunt

that makes you a liar cunt.

Don’t complain about your new name,

liar cunt.

Nobody made you lie

Nobody made you a cunt

You woke up

everyday, looked in the mirror

proclaimed to yourself

I will be a cunt !!

and I will lie about it

and make myself

a liar cunt.


You spare yourself from truth,

to perpetuate your delusion.

I suppose you feel I want it to,

I suppose you feel I want something from you.

Alas, you are boring, you are petty.

When we used to talk,

I guess you would get all sweaty…

Now I feel betrayed, confused,

lost at sea.

I close my eyes, and imagine you

lying to me, smiling.

That’s what you do–

you are a liar cunt.

Nobody made you get in this trunk.

Now you’re asking for a way out!

Asking me

the one you lied to

on which now you rely

I walk on by,

I owe you nothing;

you put yourself in this trunk.

You’ve always had the key,

don’t you see.

Please, just stop

lying to me.


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