I like not knowing how to act around you.
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never told me what is the texture of the snow
when touched by the foot.
I don't know if it's as harsh as your voice that day.
or maybe it’s as soft as the touch of your skin on mine,
of your warm hand on my cold cheek.
I wonder now, if anyone has stayed long enough
to find out before the cold
hit him on the back and burn his flesh.
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for a whole day when I wished for every minute that ended soon, 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
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I hate myself, I didn't want to, but they made me hate myself
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a person once told me that i had broad shoulders, since then i hate them. my mom said my toes are ugly, i hate them so much. I was told that my breasts are small, there was a time when I wished for bigger ones. they talked about my eyebrow, my skin tone, about being tall, about being thin, about having too much hair. until one day i looked in the mirror naked and cried, and i hated everything i saw.
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I want to scream
I want to tear my flesh and guts
I want to be able to breathe
I want so many things. but nobody wants to know what i really want
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now it's been two or three hours that I've been crying. and i can't stop for more than 1 minute. i feel like i can't do it anymore ... i can't.
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