It was 6th grade. I think it was.
My hoodies.
They fit me just the right size but what they said made me wear a larger size. To hide the fat that was sticking out, the boobs that aren't there.
My hair.
It was black and long and very soft. I loved it when someone touched my hair or when they braided it. But what they said made me want to hide it with a hat. Made me tell anyone to not touch it.
My appearance.
I liked how small I was, my dark skin complexion, my big eyes, my smile, my laughter, and everything about me. But what they said made me hate every inch of my body. From how my laughed sounded retarded to the way my body was shaped.
It was 6th grade. I know it was.
The year where I lost all the love for myself. It was what they said that made me hate myself.
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her Story
Storie breviJust a story, with short chapters about a girl and her laughs, smiles, tears, shouts, and blood featuring too. (the cover is lyrics of I'll be Good by Jaymes Young) ρяσρєяту σf ✩S.C.M.
