A distorted reality is now a necessity to be free... Happy birthday me.
A loosening grip around the curvature of my chest; the ridges of my fingerprints have grown weary of bearing the weight of a saturated heart.
Your beatings are persistent, and I am weak.My skin is easily torn.. my blood, thirsty for oxygen, eager to surface…Your silence toward me- abrasive..
(everything that you do makes me want to die)
