i will make this body into a woman
that doesn't need you
said two days before my first suicide attempt. what is a form? a representation of the soul, or a determination for what we want, what we really deserve. i expect radical changes in the coming months if i'm to keep this body. it has to change. it has to become something untouched by my rapists. something only i can mould to my will. i will scratch my way out of this cave with blood, sweat, and hair dye.
blessed be the madman, shepherded by the masses. who will sin for us when he is dead? you can't see me anymore