My reasons to live Were my reasons to die But at least they were mine Now I've freedom unbound Cut the laces of life

And if I end up with blood on my hands, well I know, that you'll understand, 'cause I fight like a girl.

And, what's more, this 'precious' body, the very same that is hooted and honked at, demeaned both in daily life as well as in ever existing form of media, harrassed, molested, raped, and, if all that wasn't enough, is forever poked and prodded and weighed and constantly wrong for eating too much, eating too little, a million details which all point to the solitary girl, to EVERY solitary girl, and say: Destroy yourself.

Studies show: Intelligent girls are more depressed Because they know What the world is really like Don't think for a beat it makes it better When you sit her down and tell her Everything gonna be all right She knows in society she either is A devil or an angel with no in between She speaks in the third person So she can forget that she's me

Awareness is the enemy of sanity, for once you hear the screaming, it never stops.

I'm a big stupid history nerd.

I myself am not afraid of ghosts; I am afraid of people.