i have seen the silhouette of me, the shape of my charcoal black outline, tripping over sticks and stones, not once staying down. i have seen myself push people away only to beg them back in. i have seen the shell of me damage herself, tear herself apart, repeatedly all because someone made her feel like she deserved to hurt.

i have seen the silhouette of me and she’s long long gone. it’s me now, my insides pouring over, revealing even the slightest charismatic piece of evidence that maybe

just maybe

she isn’t so terrible after all.