Bruises are good. They hurt, they last, but they aren’t permanent. Why would I want to make my body more ugly. Bruises will fade, along with me, and when I’m pretty I won’t have to anymore. I’m not strong enough to pick up a blade.
I gave myself a bruise. I snap for every message I sent you. When I said too much. And let things slip. You shouldn’t know such information. I shouldn’t have been so weak
BF: You're thin.
Mirror: You're fat.
Parents: You're thin.
Clothes: You're fat.
Friends: You're thin.
Scale: You're fat.
Me: I'm fat.
