Am I the girl I see in the mirror? My head is in such a haze but when I look in the mirror, I look ok. My make-up is low-key and simply pretty. My hair is up in a ponytail and not all over the place. I’m actually in a pretty white blouse, plain brown dress pants and my trusty flats. If I look far enough away, I don’t see the tears almost breaking out, the stupid confusion in my eyes and the almost pinched look on my lips. I look ok.
The dark purple fingernails feel weird for me all day. I miss the red almost-bloodlike tips. I miss sinking the tips of long nails on someone’s flesh. Ahhh... Well... I’ve cut them down to a sufficiently short length so as not to hurt anyone now.
I know that I’m being unfair right now and that I’m spiralling on a really bad place. I’m spinning this weave that I’m getting stuck on. It’s not like I want to get stuck. I just don’t know what else to do except spin it and spin it until I get dizzy and maybe lose a memory that hurts. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 and 9 threads being spun all at the same time. They’re all bound to get stupidly knotted in an impossible weave that will most likely get me stuck in a stupid trap.
Oh well... Life goes on.
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