Authors Notebook

My self harm in a nutshell

I cut my wrists and hips,

to see if they are porcelain yet.

I burn my hands 'til I get blisters,

to see if they'll melt, like the hands of a doll would.

I strangle and hit myself, 'til I get bruises,

because dolls don't get bruises.

I starve myself,

to have the perfect shape of a doll.

I have atelophobia,

because dolls are flawless.

A doll is the reason of my mental state.