★ 𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐳 .

most days i am a museum of things i want to forget.

i remember my childhood as a long wish to be elsewhere.

the truth is that no child can save her mother.

her wild feral state, her dark stare ╱ her winter lips as cold as stone.

i try to stitch them up ╱ the cuts of my heart ╱ but i struggle with the needle; my hand shakes.

sometimes (...) i can really be fucked up.

i'm a horrible woman ╱ it was all a lie.

i don't want to be alone. i want someone to want me. i'm lonely. i'm scared. i need to be loved, to be touched, to be held.