my chest is tight today, my stomach in knots. i feel a little shaken, maybe a lasting fragment of all the sadness iíve been feeling lately. my daydreams have been violent again; flowers with teeth that devour me, bodiless hands with scalpels that slice elegant patterns into my back that gush and overwhelm my body with blood, taking a razor to my tongue just to taste the iron coursing through my veins. i have this fantasy about kissing someone with blood in my mouth, the ferocity of pain and pleasure intertwined in the tidal wave of an aggressive kiss.
people look at me, they think iím so good, so sweet, a nice girl. they overlook the scars, the reflection of razorblades in my eyes, because itís easier to see an image. i am nothing like the pictures of me.