My strong and independent (№ 392577)

Well, my strong and independent? Again sitting on the bathroom floor and cry like Beluga? Scream, growl and crawl tears of a swollen, red face?
Revie, Revie. I know how it hurts. When you tear into pieces when ridge interrupted in the middle. When you soul, and you're hell on a platter. Nod? Yes, the freak. Again lied with three boxes? Lied.
To what extent we love the person, so that at a glance trampled you and one touch lit? Up to what point is enough of your fire to sustain his character? How long you can step on your throat and to compromise? Silent? Shut up. Dry your tears, in the end.
Writing poems and songs? No? And, excuses and excuses him compose. Yes abruptly Belinsky. Been there.
Stand up. Come to the mirror. Look at his face, tear-stained red eyes. Wheezing uneven voice? Take a SIP of water, do not swallow insults. You're beautiful, you know? Even now, when you look like a whipped dog. Even at this moment. Remember this.
And now, my proud and strong, shoulders back. Exhale. Not sobbing. And go. Waiting for you. Have things to do, relatives, and the society of dragons, rejoicing in your pain. With a firm step, with a smile. Stomp.