Welcome to the Dollhouse

Who ever told you to fight back?

Wish I could forget forever. Can’t believe I ever survived. It’s an open wound I forget is there, until I trip and fall: then it gushes again, but I can staunch it quickly now. And I won’t have to feel it anymore. But I’ll start stumbling again...a scar couldn’t be scarring if it never healed. What would you even call it, then? A defect. Fatal flaw, disease, preexisting condition, warning sign. It’ll stain all my clothes. Always in the way. Just cope.

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