I say: if the heart is a muscle I will train it to be sinew.
I say: the heart is a muscle and it will resist.
I say: because I am master of myself, I will not be weak.
You say: soft.
You say: tender.
I say: there is a hole in me that needs tearing open.
You say: that isn't how healing works.
I say: I know.
I say: I am an old dog licking its sores just as they scab over.
I say: I want to be raw flesh and no hurt.
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1989 | Rants
Random❝ September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. ❞ In which a salty libra with a dark sense of humour rants & misquotes greek gods because why not? ❝ Dear Diary: My teen angst bullshit now has a body count. ❞
