And If I End Up With Blood

Why Should I Wake When I'm Half Past Dead?

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.

What If I'm An Angel Without Wings To Take Me Home?

Thank You. It Used To Be Knee Length, But Then I Discovered That When I Get Angry I Like To Cut Things. I'm Not Allowed To Have Scissors Any More. It's Still Pretty Lengthy, But I've Been Threatening To Shave Half Of It For The Past Week And Nobody Seems To Believe Me... I Do It All Myself Though Because I Scream When I'm Touched And That Scares People.

It Gives Me Strength To Have Somebody To Fight For; I Can Never Fight For Myself, But, For Others, I Can Kill.