06.21.17 i. i learned to bite back without getting blood on my mouth. to swing hard without breaking
06.21.17 i. i learned to bite back without getting blood on my mouth. to swing hard without breaking my fist. to set fires without burning up my own clothes. ii. sophomore year suicide but not really. part of me died and the other part wanted to. it’s not just an exaggeration it’s the scars under my skin. the ones on the outside that scabbed and healed over. the kids who thought rumors weren’t time bombs in rose gardens. like this is recess gossip not locker room isolation. iii. so I hit back. became the better bitch in most ways and grew thick skin. i don’t even feel the sting anymore. nothing can touch me so nothing can love me so nothing can fucking leave me. iv. forget safety in numbers. there’s only ever been safety in being alone. -- source link
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