As a toddler, my pudgy fingertips trace the broken lines from my Alphabet Book. Pride fills me as three red stars are marked on my hands.
As a child, my bruised fingertips trace the broken vase from my stepmom's room. Fear fills me as she marks three red slaps on my arms.
As a teen, my bony fingertips trace the broken body I have from my mirror. Satisfaction fills me as three red slits mark my wrists.
YOU ARE READING
How?
RandomHow did I get in such a mess? Nobody knows. Even I don't know. Just a book full of quotes, some songs, and lots and lots of realizations and regrets in this mess I call, life.
