she wanted it: sexual assault

I hear birds singing The sun is rising

I scrub. The grime doesn't seem to go away.

Imagine being able to LITERALLY bottle up your pain. I mean, literally being able to put your sadness into a jar

You don’t know You can’t know

That moment when You finally start thinking about the thoughts you’ve been trying to repress all night.

There’s a comfort in writing from your kitchen in a noiseless house,

LITERAL NON POETIC THOUGHTS THAT ARE MORE ME VENTING TO A BUNCH OF STRANGERS thx.

See, the thing is,

Do you ever just feel like smashing your head into a wall? So much that you imagine it.

... Don’t ignore it. It surrounds us.