𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙖.

on my worst days, i feel like a birdcage girl, imprisoned and holding the keys; i feel like a cheap reflection of my potential, like the universe forgot what i was supposed to be or could have been - i keep inventing pain so that i can feel at home.

“Imagination is having to live in a dead person’s future. Grief is wearing a / dead person’s dress forever.”

“girlhood rots between my teeth, a sickness so sweet it aches.”

“(QUESTION) what do you know of war? (ANSWER) my girlhood was a warzone. of missed meals. of razor blades. of hollow laughter and dead eyes. i use to rip myself into pieces every night and try to put myself back together when dawn came. all i’ve ever known is a war. these bones have known a carnage.”