Not My Own

And on nights when my heart aches and I feel like I’m ready to rip my soul away from my carcass I carry around, I write words on my body. Words like ‘you can do this’ and ‘you deserve happiness.’ I write them all over my body and I sit and wait for them to sink in. I sit on the floor and close my eyes, as if the chemicals from the fading black sharpie will work their way through my skin, into my blood stream and make it to my brain- all while holding the sentiment of the words written. All so that maybe one day I’ll believe them.”



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