Colors On The Wall

Colors On The Wall

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación mar, abr 22, 2014
Mahogany Hazel Lennox. All my life I've been known as Graffiti and yes, I definitely live up to my nickname. I'm obnoxious, rambunctious, stubborn, fun-loving, beautiful *wink, wink*, you name it. That's what most people see me as anyways. The people that really know me see me as a girl beaten down and withering. Years of mental abuse will do that to a girl. I used to be so happy. I would always be cracking a joke or making a sarcastic comment. I still am that same witty girl I used to be, it's just harder now. Sadness follows me like a plague, until he comes along. For once in my life it's not so hard. Smiling is second nature and laughing comes with ease. All thanks to him, my life, my happiness, my fiancé. The road to recovery is the one I visit most often, the road that led me to him.
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"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard

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