Broken Hearts to Fixing Cars

Ten-Eighteen-TwoThousandSeven,
My password is still the same,
& When I do type it in, I no longer think of you.

Pictures I see on my desktop of you and I,
I no longer think of you.
Places we've been, Things we did,
I no longer think of you.

You hurt me so bad,
I don't feel the pain anymore.
You fucked me over,
I don't feel the pain anymore.

Is this how it feels? To be Happy?
I had this conversation with Mr. Retondo last night.

My car brings me happiness.
The fact I keep myself busy,
fixing it up.
Getting my goals done myself,
being the INDEPENDENT ($$)
Person I always wanted to be.

Buy my own $hit cause it's legal.
Think about myself, cause I can.
Go out with guys & no one caring.
Talk to who I like cause I'm $ingle, bitch.
The only people I need to worry about is my parents.
I maybe lonely in the car but sometimes it's better that way.
Hardly any road rages because I'm mad.
Race when I like, Rev when I like, & what if my car aint that nice,
It's getting there!

Progress in getting sounds,
Saving for;
Headlights,
Bumper,
Lips + Skirts,
Window repairs,
When everything is on, finally for the last step..

PAINT JOB!

My blue-BABY yum yum is gonna turn into
my WHITE-snowy Prince (:
now that's my muthafckn fairytale.