sad. Swinging my legs
thinking it might be another. I hate being me.
There are no stains or pen shines in my legs, no one that I want to hold hands to cross the street, no one to calm me down like a baby because I'm angry, needy and sick.
The day I came I thought the rule was broken inside me, the truth is that they came to attack me to make me feel very small and they are very young.
desire projected onto others. I feel trapped in a movie without a happy ending or catastrophic.
I wanted to kill me dead but I can not die.
I'm sorry. They want to drown me, nibbling my back and haunt me with forks. I have fear. Do not leave me resp
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