❝ there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. ❞ { thank you for the follow back! }
“y’don’t know me.” she scoffs, kicking a pebble near her foot before exhaling deeply. “y’don’t. an’ i’m warnin’ ya. m’not the person y’think i am. really. i’m worse, way worse than that. i could have been a convict if i hadn’t stopped myself. these hands, fingers, knuckles..” looking at them with a distasteful look, she brushes her fingers along the marked up lines of her skin. bruises that swelled and came in package of a vibrant violet or a deep blue. the bruises were endless, and each told a story. none were achieved without a purpose. as if they were her children, without the commitment of having any. “just don’t tell me who i am, what i can or can’t do, ‘cos you’re not my mother. nor are you me, so y’can’t say that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with me. ‘cos t’me, absolutely everything is terrifying t’others an’ the bones under my skin shake with my troubled past. so. don’t.”
