Sometimes I feel like there is someone inside of me and she's scratching at the walls of my mind and struggling against all the knots I've tied her in. Sometimes I can't fight anymore and she walks around wearing my skin and my clothes and talking like me and laughing like me and breathing like me. Sometimes I know she will do things that I would never do- she screams and cries and cuts us apart and says things just to hurt you and pushes everyone who's trying to help us away and gets angry at nothing and breaks everything. Sometimes I hate everything about her especially how she hates everyone she's ever known and how well she knows how much the lines of love and hate intersect. Sometimes she blurs us together until we can no longer recognize ourselves as separate. Sometimes I am her. Sometimes she is me. And sometimes,
We are us.