𝓁etter, @hoodred. — WHO DID THIS TO YOU?
she who was once spring, now winter. violet—blue contusions mottle o'er neck & wrist, angry & ugly & singing melodies of pain with each movement. half—present & half—absent she remains. uncharacteristic emptiness lingers in gaze, head turning ever so slow as if body & mind lag behind. " i could not see their face, " heavy silence smothers in moments 'tween words. fingertips tremble, cheeks burning hot with odd sense of shame; phantom sensations of hateful hands & remaining adrenaline yet linger. " it happened, but it's... it's okay. i'm still alive, & that's all that matters, right? "