Copyright, Olivia

I was molested for the first time by my brother. After him came his friend, who was very popular. Which made me believe no one would ever believe me. I started slashing my wrists when I was sixteen in response to vivid memories. I would just scrub my skin raw at first when I was twelve but that wasn’t enough to get my anger under control anymore. I never told anyone about being molested until three years had passed. I began dressing in all black and still do. I know I am nothing and that is why no one did anything for me. I have been anorexic? for three years or so but have always had food issues. I was never diagnosed though, because no one cares. I’m nothing, just a “ho” waiting for someone to come and use my body. I cut to stop feeling. I cut to gain control. I cut when I eat. I don’t deserve food. I look down at the cuts on my arm and think “damn, that’s deep.”


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