I know how I’m going to die. Trapped inside of my mind with no room to stretch and no oxygen to breathe, surly my own thoughts will suffocate me long before I turn to stone from my rigid posture.
I’ve always wondered what I was meant to be and if I will ever be able be that.. To attempt to accomplish everything I’ve laid out for myself is terrifying, especially when those I loved the hardest already have a mold ready for me.
as if this was a twisted tale of Cinderella, I was forced to wear something that could never fit me. Blisters and bruises weren’t the only things I received. now I hide inside of my mind, a body inside of a body, because how can he hurt me if the real me is hidden ?