Filthy.
Lazy.
Disgusting.
Worthless.
Hopeless.
Useless.
Black ink scratched its way into the veins of my wrist. Tainting the once red blood with its color and spreading up, infecting every cell it touched.
The Ink turned the skin under my eyes black and the skin of my lips dry. My nails turned chipped and ripped from snagging black fabric that now adorned my skin like a new layer.
Black fabric.
Black fabric.
Black fabric.
Swallowing the body.
Hiding the imperfections and curves from judgmental eyes and loose lips.
A void.
YOU ARE READING
Dark skinned Dreams
RandomJust trying to find myself and my place. Just trying to find peace. People told me I should make a diary and this is it. It's all personal thoughts and feelings I hope that I'm not alone in feeling. Major trigger warning ahead.
