My own heart betrayed me one day, I don't know how it happened, or what the reason was but I woke up wanting to quiet my crazy, painted all the walls
of my room a color I hated, so it didn't feel like my own took off all the quotes that kept me sane and told myself I didn't need them anymore that I was ready to be a lady and have a neat room. some night before an art show, in the silence of the living room, with very dim light I put all my curls in a pony tail and cut hair off until the face in the mirror was unknown to me but that doesn't truly matter anymore,
hair grows and insanity doesn't last. the hardest part was facing the truth, that I just didn't like myself anymore. that I was cutting off my life everything that made me stand out and why, why would I do that? why would I have wanted to squeeze myself into a stereotype, aching to fit in or blend in. maybe because what no one tells you is that the spot light is actually a very lonely place to be. that compliments only give your ego bragging rights and nothing more. I needed to put myself down, just to prove that I could get myself back up again (alone). with no need for a crowd. and I have done just that. I've ate dirt with my own hands and washed myself clean again. if I could destroy myself and deal with it like a grown woman nothing out there could touch me, because the only thing standing in my way, is me and nobody else
