What does your body want you to promise it?
"Promise me you won't hurt me again," my body cries.
"I...can't," I reply.
"Scars to hide, bleeding eyes, to tame thoughts of suicide that never die."
"Why don't you love me, why do you hurt me? Show your scars, ask for help, talk in depth."
It pleads, "Do it for me, for yourself."
"I can't"... and that was the end.
soft cloud
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 9:42 AM UTC