1/31/13

Your parents say that everything is your fault
They don’t know you like I know you
They don’t know you at all
They don’t know what it’s like to wake up in the middle of the night scared of the thought of kissing razors
You’re sick of when they say it’s just a phase and that you’ll be ok you’re fine
Because it’s a lie and that is not a small cut that scabs and dries and flakes and heals
And you were screaming till the police came that you’re not afraid to die