infinity the concept of infinity.
i can't think about it too long or hard otherwise i'll never stop.
there are purple spots on my skin and i tell people they are because i am part alien but really they are because my father was a smoker and a bad dad.
i am not part alien i am it. everything about me is alien. the way my limbs rest uneasily, uncomfortably, unsure of where they should be. the way i say words when i should be silent and i am silent when i should say words. the way i use writing not as a creative outlet but as a coping mechanism, as a means of not killing myself.
i do not starve to attempt to fit the universe's belief of what a 'pretty' girl should look like. i starve because i like putting my body through deprivation. it is only fair. i listen to elliott smith and i cry and sometimes i cannot cry so i take out the blade and i make my skin unique. sometimes my blood is watered down like my tears have gone to my veins instead and sometimes it is thick and gross and it makes me angrier and i keep going and going until there is so much that i cannot see or feel the texture and i cannot see or feel anything and
i was only five years old
it takes a weak man to hurt a five year old girl so much
YOU ARE READING
not quite sure but i need to write something
Randomnot sure how you would stumble across this or why you'd read it but hi a place for me and you to vent i guess, feel free to vent in the comments big trigger warnings for suicide, trauma, sh
