Quick Sand

"I don't care!" I said, a sob escaping my lips

"I-I don't c-c-care!"

"There's not-t-thing wrong w-with m-m-me!!!" I repeated, vehemently stuttering as my sobs increased with every word uttered. A lump began forming in my throat standing as my sob barrier.

"I'm beautif-" I fell to the floor not giving a hoot about the sudden pain on the side of my head as a result of the swift collision with the wooden floors unabling to finish my false words of optimism. The pain from my head, the heartache, painful words that were so reminiscent of my past by my oh-so-loving bullies- all knocking against the little sanity I have left.

Truth is, I hated me and everything I was made of which basically to me were folds of fat tucked under the layers of my skin. Always have and always will.

Cover by: @incendia- :)