I dream of times when I was younger. When everything was nice and life was good. Before everything went downhill. Before it was demanded by society that everything about my body has to be damn near perfect so I could be accepted. I dreamt that no one was in pain. That no one felt bad about their bodies. About their hair. About piercings or tattoos. That everyone was accepted and loved in the same way. But no. That's not the world we live in. And it will definitely never change. But I hope for my children, their childhood lasts longer than mine did.
YOU ARE READING
The diary of a depressed teen.
Short StoryContains depression, suicidal thoughts, self-harm references, and my strong opinions about everything I'm angry about at the time of which I write each chapter. This is just how I feel my life is going right now.
