I want to ruin you in the ugliest way imaginable so that someday, when you have to tell your children about me, it will take every breath you have to hide the catch in your throat
I color my nails black and dye my hair red to wear, in metaphors, what my heart wants. The things I don‘t wish to remember, leaking from the tips of my fingers. The things I wish I won‘t forget, clinging to the roots of my hair.