Two people who were once very close can without blame or grand betrayal become strangers. Perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.

I won't glorify or romanticise heartbreak, for me it was a kind of death and I was forced to keep living.

Two people who were once very close can without blame or grand betrayal become strangers. Perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.

It's not my responsibility to be beautiful. I'm not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.

My alone feels so good, I'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude.

I’m not sad, but the boys who are looking for sad girls always find me. I’m not a girl anymore and I’m not sad anymore. You want me to be a tragic backdrop so that you can appear to be illuminated, so that people can say ‘Wow, isn't he so terribly brave to love a girl who is so obviously sad?’ You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star? I’ll swallow you whole.

Essentially, if our secrets are secrets because we are told to be ashamed, then we must share them. There is no shame in being sad or struggling or trying to heal. We are all desperate, depraved and sacred. We are all terrible and brillIant. I can list all the things that can make a girl want to escape her own body (re: patriarchy). But I’d rather list all the things that make me want to stay in my body, and adorn it like a home, rub oils into my skin, tell it how sorry I am for trying to leave, for trying to hurt it into submission