She ran away once more, exactly when she was stuck between the words and too scared to feel. How much they know about you? Your scars are marks with no history,
the cuts on your wrist, they're not that visible anymore, it's so beautiful to see the coldness turning into need.
I thought I was strong, cold, hard and cruel, but I'm just me, falling apart and holding into a salvation.
I'm made of dreams, lost pieces of truths, meaningless words. Don't judge me for being different.

@weirdopoynter

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