And that sentence there, that tells you everything that's wrong with me. My fascination with self sabotage and violence, my addiction to destruction and god, my lackluster way with words.
In the dark of the night, I ripped the ivy from the side of the house and tangled it around my little hands. I watched the clouds all night, and felt so small. When the sun came up, the morning dew drenched everything, everything including me. My body covered in ivy burns and icy dew.
(Sometimes, sometimes I'm so pretentious the only that balances me out is my abject failure. )
I walk along the waters edge, because that's where the wind is strongest and where the temperature is lowest. The tip of my nose goes numb, and my eyes water. The act of freezing. I think I do it to stop the badness taking over my body. They thought I had cancer once, spreading through my womb. I laughed and laughed when they told me, because. Because I would have cried if it were true. But I knew it wasn't.
It was pure badness, growing through me. That's all. Making me destructive, pretentious.
So I learned to hide in the corners with my teeth buttoning my lip.
introductions don't mean anything.