Reasons I grab my boobs
- running upstairs
- running downstairs
- stoked on life
- walking through my house in the dark
crude ss - what you say, what you do
you were right, i can’t do this, i’m going crazy.
it’s gone by me, and you can’t see how much i think i’m empty.
one of my faves
my preferred pronouns are “trash” “garbage” and “roadkill”
amputaatio - ei mitä
Essentially, if our secrets are secrets because we are told to be ashamed, then we must share them. There is no shame in being sad or struggling or trying to heal. We are all desperate, depraved and sacred. We are all terrible and brillIant. I can list all the things that can make a girl want to escape her own body (re: patriarchy). But I’d rather list all the things that make me want to stay in my body, and adorn it like a home, rub oils into my skin, tell it how sorry I am for trying to leave, for trying to hurt it into submission.