Start Fresh || j.c. (ON HOLD)

Death sings to me as I rest my head on the soft delicate cushioning I call my bed. the feeling of wanting to feel nothing at all. Looking in the mirror and wishing you saw a beautiful model instead of the horrendous beast you imagined yourself to be. This is the feeling I wanted to go away. I felt that if I ever opened up, nobody would really care and turn there back on me. why would they care about my problems. they don't have to deal with them, because that's the thing they are my problems. My name is Marisa Adams and this is my story.