Calmly sit and blankly stare, Nothing means anything and you’re nowhere. healthier to choose numbness than screaming “I CAN’T FUCKING COPE!” Because at the end of the day,
She wears her bruises like a badge, blossoming on her vein-marbled skin. Every cut, every scab, every hard earned scratch, is a mark on her map, a sign of a win.
He's prone to exaggeration, it's spreading like a contagion, with steely determination, through a sickly population, or like a lover's silent elation, during a vivid evocation,
She's an over-talker an it's-not-my-faulter a parentless daughter a truth-distorter an I-want-morer a thought-contorter a reprimand-vaulter a synus-snorter a self-doubt-aborter